


A Hamil-ton of Short Stories

by InsertACatchyPennameHere



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Dancing Sisters Fairytale AU, Drabbles, Ficlet Collection, Happy Ending, Multi, One Shot, Prompts Open, Short Stories, These Babies Deserve the World, Two shots, three shots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-29
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-05-15 07:16:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 39,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14785928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsertACatchyPennameHere/pseuds/InsertACatchyPennameHere
Summary: One shots, two shots, drabbles and even small plotlines need a comprehensive home to grow and become something grand. They will be placed here as they come to me, and I hope you all enjoy reading them as much as I enjoy writing them. PROMPTS ARE OPEN!





	1. Snow Worries (Hamliza)

**Author's Note:**

> Modern! Hamliza- A typically snowy day in New York. Eliza's insecurity falls like the snow and Alexander really does try, but he can be as dense as the ground it falls upon.

Growing up in New York City meant that one was long used to the constant sights and sounds of the city, the availability of resources, and the frigid winters. Someone who grew up in the Caribbean had no such luck, and though the city was his adoptive home, Eliza pitied her boyfriend, she truly did.

“Oh come on,” Angelica implored as said boyfriend sat stubbornly on their couch, his hair and outline of his eyes the only parts of him visible beneath his amassed heap of blankets he had tightly wrapped around himself. “It’s not _that_ bad. You should’ve seen this past winter-“

“Papa fell down so many times he lost count!” Peggy interjected with a grin across her youthful face. “And Mama always had it so hot in here that we couldn’t freeze if we tried! Besides, it’s only _November._ What’re ya gonna do when it’s _January_?”

“Perish slowly, I reckon,” the older boy mumbled around his layers, pulling them tighter if it was possible.

“You’re just being a baby!” Eliza’s younger sister announced, turning her attention away from the trio of older children to readdress piling on her own gear to head outside.

“I didn’t even know temperatures could drop below 0,” Alexander grumbled unhappily. “You can’t possibly expect me to be thrilled about freezing to death. I came all the way from across the sea just to die in the city that was supposed to save me. Thanks, Martha, George, you really did me a solid.”

“If you’d get up and get dressed properly, you wouldn’t be so miserable!” Angelica reminded, reaching behind her head to unleash her curls from where they’d been trapped under her scarf, coats and headgear. “If you don’t hurry up, we’re going to leave both of you behind. Riverside Park waits for no one!”

Riverside was relatively new to the Schuyler children; their younger days had been spent on much tamer slopes across their home city, or even on their own property. As they grew older and more experienced in sledding, however, it became their parents’ mission to find a suitable place for their offspring to occupy and not complain of boredom, and they’d found it this past winter in Hippo Park. She herself would have had no issue staying on the tamer courses- she found the families and ease of it all quite relaxing- but her sisters were absolutely persistent. Now she was dressed head to toe in proper attire, and the only thing left was to somehow convince her partner to do the same.

“Sledding is fun,” she told him with a fond smile. “Once you get started, you’ll never stop.”

“Maybe I don’t want to get started,” Alexander grumbled, pulling one of his layers over his head entirely. “I’m not going to mess up your house. Hell, I’ll ever get George to come get me, but I refuse to- HEY!”

Before the middle sister could process it, the eldest sister had unceremoniously dumped their guest into the floor, having seized the ends of most of his blankets and yanking up with gusto to rival the strongest of men. Alex glared at her from his position on the floor, waving off his girlfriend when she tried to help him up with a burning red face, but Angie simply smirked and dropped the linens into a heap on the couch.

“Now you don’t have an excuse!” She announced smugly. “Get your lazy butt up before it gets too crowded out there!”

“What a shame that would be,” the immigrant scoffed, but his expression softened slightly when his girlfriend gently took his hands despite his earlier protests.

“It will be fun,” she reminded with a patient smile. “Come on now, Papa and Mama didn’t buy you those clothes for them to go to waste.”

She was well aware he never asked for them to do so before he said it, and simply dismissed it with a shake of her head and fond eye roll while corralling him into one of their many guest bathrooms. Moving countries mere months earlier had to be extremely difficult to get used to, especially when having been adopted by the prestigious Washington family was his unwelcome ticket in, but she’d been smitten with him throughout all of his temper tantrums, his occasional roughness and cruelty, and his constantly short fuse. Of course it may be silly to expect she’d found “the one” at the tender age of fifteen, but she couldn’t imagine herself with any other young man for the rest of her days. As she stood attentively outside the bathroom he was now (hopefully) changing in, her heart panged for reassurance that he felt the same, which he never gave without being prompted. She didn’t blame him, not really- Mama had taught her boys were always dense in matters of the heart before being trained by a woman- but it still festered as the door swung up and he waddled out, looking quite skewed and very breathless.

“They really want me to wear three pairs of socks?” The fifteen year old boy demanded, a look of pure disbelief on his face. “What’s wrong with just one? I won’t fit into those boots with this many!”

“You definitely will,” she assured easily. “They’re made to accommodate more clothes, which is what makes them winter boots. You somehow have _all_ your clothes on crooked, and your hat is backwards...Surely it got a little cold in the Caribbean, Alexander!”

“We have two very different definitions of cold, my dear,” he retorted with a bashful grin, and her heart fluttered with hope at the pet name he reserved exclusively for her.

She straightened his clothing with renewed confidence, her thin fingers gracefully pulling his wild hair away from all of his new protection and making him look worthy to be in the presence of her prestigious family. Her parents hadn’t been displeased when she first began bringing him around- he was the Washington’s foster, after all- but they certainly grew tired of his constantly unkempt appearance and abrasive, blunt nature that had their mother blushing and throwing fits when he left. As she admired her handwork, she self-consciousnessly reached to tuck in and smooth out her own appearance, a natural instinct to the middle daughter of one of the richest families in all of the country, much less simply New York. Before she could groom herself, she found her small hands brought into Alexander’s larger, more calloused ones that were deeply colored compared to her own.

“You look beautiful,” he assured as if he could read her mind. “You’re always flawless, Betsey. I don’t know why you preen like you don’t know how stunning you are.”

A warm blush coated her cheeks, his fingers curling inside his own and taking great comfort in the way his eyes were intently trained on her own. “It must be force of habit.”

He smiled kindly and planted a sweet kiss on the tip of her nose right as her mother strode in, looking at her wits end as she was trailed by Eliza’s younger brothers. “Hurry along, you two, we’re already late for when we wanted to be there!”

“Yes Mama,” Eliza replied politely at once, keeping one of Alex’s hands firmly in her own as she made her way toward the exit.

“Don’t be upset with her, ma’am,” Alex said with a good natured grin toward the matriarch. “She was making sure I didn’t look like the Caribbean rat I am.”

“Alexander!” The middle eldest sister proclaimed, but before they could dwindle on his comment, they were rushed out the door by Angelica and a very impatient Peggy and herded into the carriage their father had insisted they all ride in to look proper and eloquent against the falling snow.

Just as she’d expected, Alexander absolutely loved sledding, even if he was no good at it. He wiped out far more than he glided gracefully, which amused his close friends who’d also happened to this spot in New York- southern hailing charmer John Laurens, the determined French immigrant Gilbert de Lafayette, the rough and tumble sweetheart Hercules Mulligan, and the ever-poisoned and rigid Aaron Burr- to no end along with her closest sisters. This was merely fuel to his fire, of course, and soon he was sweaty, scarlet-faced and shivering from head to toe. It took Lafayette’s tackling and Laurens’ prodding to finally get him over to the blanket her mother had set up to talk with the other parents. Eliza, who had retired just before to drink some hot chocolate they’d packed, offered a mug of the same to her partner, who happily took it and began drinking it in long swigs.

“It’s so sweet!” He proclaimed, a childish grin breaking across his rosy face. “God, this is the stuff of _dreams_ where I come from!”

She tucked her legs to the side and leaned against his chest, shivering contently as his body heat reached her through their clothes. “Tell me more?”

Alex didn’t talk about his home too often- he’d only recently come around to doing so- but she could listen as long as he’d be willing to explain and recount. She listened with the utmost attentiveness as her siblings came and went, and as his friends continued rough-housing and snowball fighting with the other teenagers and children in the area. He was just describing a traditional dish his mother loved to make when a clump of snow came from seemingly nowhere, clocking him right in the nose and sending him reeling backwards from shock of impact.

“Alexander!” She yelped at once, leaning over her bewildered boyfriend. “Are you alright?”

“Direct hit!” Laurens was screeching in delight, kicking up the snow around him. “And there’s nothin’ you can do about it, Hamilton!”

“Wanna bet?!” Her companion roared, his content smile immediately traded for a wild grin.

As it turned out, he had no idea how to snowball fight at first, and his idea of revenge was wrestling his friend to the ground while shoving ice down the others shirt. Eventually the game continued as it should, and she put all of her questions aside for later as she joined in the festivities, which of course became a competition between both girls and boys. Elizabeth Schuyler was far from the bragging type, but the ladies completely wiped the field with the boys, and despite their complaints if they went again the roles would be reserved, everyone’s parents insisted it was time to call peace and head inside to get warm.

“That was such a blast!” Her Alex was puffing as he stripped out of his layers, all of his clothes finding their way in a crumpled heap at his feet once they’d returned home for lunch. “When can we go back??”

“Once everybody has eaten and napped, I reckon,” her father replied with a small smile, casting at the youngest members of the family and her very exhausted mother. “Make yourself comfortable in the meantime.”

Happy to oblige, she prepared both of them servings of soup and sandwiches from their servants’ work, allowing them to sit in content silence as they ate and later retired to the couch, where Alex broke out his cell phone to start come kind of argument on the Internet. The sight of Peggy, who’d stuffed her face minutes before and who was now sound asleep on one of the beanbags, inspired the middle sister enough to lean heavily into her romantic interest before dozing off herself .When she woke once more, she was surprised to find him unaffected by the lull across the mansion, his piercing eyes still intently watching his screen as he fingers flew across the keyboard.

“Why don’t you take a break?” She implored softly.

“Hm?” He only now seemed to take notice of her again, his face coloring slightly. “I can’t, Betsey, that asshole Jefferson is trying to humiliate me in front of everyone and I won’t let it stand!”

She sighed softly; the older student at their high school was going to the bane of both of their existences. Begrudgingly, she decided she ought to stay awake if he was to do the same, but this opened her mind up to the insecurities that had been plaguing her all day.

Of course Alexander insisted he usually used his Internet to argue with people, but he could just as easily be chatting up a million other girls, ones that were far more ‘homegrown’ or even from his homeland than herself. She’d not missed the way he looked to her beautiful, confident older sister, or even the way he seemed to take every opportunity he could to touch his best friend. He’d also insinuated they thought of him like a Caribbean rat, and though he may joke like that often, it was rarely so bluntly and in front of her parents. It was quite possible that is how he honestly felt they regarded him- it was no secret he was convinced his foster parents kept him as an ‘act of self-righteous charity’ so why would she or her family be an exception to his flawed logic? What if he was only with her to make himself feel like someone important, someone who could boost his image and make him fit in more with the elites, and as soon as someone more meaningful came along, he’d bail?

“Betsey?” Her beloved’s voice brought her back to the present, but it was too late to stop the tears of fear from budding in her eyes. “You’re being awfully qu- Oh my God, are you crying? Eliza, what’s wrong??”

She looked onto him with sad brown eyes, her face flushing with shame. “I-it’s stupid, I’m sorry, g-go back to your argument.”

“I already got him to log off,” Alex assured with a soft voice she rarely got the pleasure of hearing, his hand cupping her face gently as he brought her closer to him yet. “Even if I hadn’t, I’m worried about my pretty girl in blue. What’s got you so upset?”

With a shy sniffle, she pressed her cheek into his palm and confessed, “I just…You get so wrapped up with all the things you have to do, and I support you, but…Well, sometimes I worry you really think we think of you like some project from overseas, or that I’m just a placeholder until you can find someone more like you.”

For a moment, the other fifteen year old was quiet, and she felt her heart drop to her stomach. Then she was pressed into his slightly sweaty, very Alexander-scented shirt, and all of her fears began melting away when he squeezed her tightly and planted unmistakable kisses wherever he could reach on her head.

“I’m not so good with words,” he finally said. “I mean, I can write until my fingers bleed, but I’m a lost cause orally. I know you and your family love me- okay, well, you love me and they enjoy my presence enough to keep allowing me over- and me going on somewhere else? Where did that even come from? Is it something I said? I make people cry all the time, it’s probably my bad-“

“It’s my own insecurities!” She quickly corrected, her hands covering his own. “Goodness, now I’ve got you second guessing yourself.”

With a crooked grin, he planted a final kiss on her forehead. “You seem to be the only girl who has that effect on me. Trust me, I’m not going anywhere until you finally kick me to the curb. What kind of fool would I be to step down and accept a moldy snack when I’ve already scored the prettiest, smartest, kindest seven course meal in all of this country?”

She giggled helplessly and pulled him into a hug of her own, ever so conscience of where his face landed against her chest and smiling shyly when he nuzzled closer for reasons not entirely innocent. He may not think he was the best with words, but she found herself breathless by his speeches and ideas like it was the first time they’d met, and as they held each other with the snow falling down and her family quietly asleep, she was certain there was no one else for her.

“…I love you, Alexander.”

Her breath caught in her throat of her sudden murmur of affection. They’d never said those three words out loud before, and here she was, making the first move and saying it casually. It wouldn’t be so strange imagining Angelica saying that, but was she sure it’d come from her lips? Yes, it must have been, because the fondness in her heart told her that nobody, not even her gorgeous sister, could have what she cradled now.

With the lack of hesitation that would sweep her off her feet for years to come, Alexander replied with sincerity, “I love you too, my Eliza.”


	2. Storm (Burr Family)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aaron Burr does not consider himself to be a 'pet person', much less a cat owner. His daughter has other ideas.

Aaron Burr was a man with many problems. He didn’t actively seek them, of course; they tended to find him instead. Of all places to encounter one of his most difficult issues, he never thought his own home would be one, and yet here he was with his daughter before him, her eyes wide and pleading as she held a scrawny, mewling kitten to her chest.

“Oh please Papa!” Young Theodosia implored, her expression helpless as she clutched the filthy, flea-ridden animal to her school dress. “Please, we must keep him! He will starve without me!”

“My darling, you know we cannot keep animals about with your mother sick,” Aaron rebuked gently, his heart aching when he saw his ten year old’s pitiful expression. “Not to mention with vermin around, how will you focus on your studies?”

He watched a flash of determination fill her dark eyes, and he knew then he’d already lost this argument. He tried to keep his adoration for his child out of the way of making sure she had strict focus on her studies and that her mental discipline was strong, but that also made her a fierce opponent when they disagreed. As proud as he was that she was becoming more than he could ever hope to be, he was well aware that meant she could elicit what she wanted when she’d made up her mind to achieve it with the most strong willed of men.

“He is not vermin, Papa. He is a cat,” she announced in fluent Latin, her eyes twinkling as she stared down her father. “He is my friend and he needs us. Besides, Mama would love a little friend while we away.”

She had a point, of course. His wife was laid up constantly now, and her health had been on the decline for several months. Perhaps a creature, no matter how measly and disgusting it were at the time, could serve as a worthy companion as he worked and his child advanced her studies. With a pang of guilt, he was reminded that his greatest rival had many, many faults, but he’d provided plenty of free, easily accessible friends for his Phillip by giving him numerous siblings while his own child seemed to have only herself. If he would not give her siblings or a rest from her education, he might as well give her a ‘pet.’

“Only this one,” he said sternly despite how his heart melted when her expression lit up. “If your performance drops, we disregard it. Understood?”

“Thank you, Papa!” She threw her arms around him, and though he was not pleased by the way to pitiful animal squeaked and cried out when it was it was pressed between them, he resolved to make it work for his Theo.

…

She named the cat Storm based on the weather that occurred when she located him and based on the way he was a fully grey cat with electric green eyes. He was shy and timid when they first took him in, but now that he was grown he was full of energy, constantly attacking anything that displeased him, which included Aaron on numerous occasions. Despite how his claw and bites marks irritated him, he could not deny their animal was fantastic at keeping disease ridden mice away from them all as well as bugs, and he brought his girls a great deal of happiness. Mauled house shoes and the inability to keep curtains untorn was a small price to pay in the long run, he decided.

Storm turned out to be Theo’s most available form of comfort with the passing of her mother. He came in often to see her asleep with her freshly reddened and stained by tears, the cat curled up securely in her arms and occasionally licking her cheeks clean. It was those times he and the widower made eye contact for long moments before the pet continued tending to his child in ways he seemed to fail, and he was ever more certain he’d made the correct decision all those months ago.

…

Aaron had said they’d only have one cat and that would be it. The situation was changed the second he found their pet holed up under their home with kittens sucking at his- well, now _her-_ newly swollen glands. He’d noticed she’d been gaining quite a bit of weight, but of course he wasn’t so lucky that it was simply her diet to blame.

“Storm!” Theo cried in relief as she crouched down by his side, her face lit up with a rare genuine smile. “There you are, you silly thing! I could’ve sworn you’d run off at last, and yet here you are with young of your own!”

What kind of father would he be to deny her something that made her glow for the first time since her mother’s death nearly two years ago? He wasn’t sure, but he was determined not to be one as she turned to likely request they keep them.

“We need to move them inside, Papa,” she announced instead, her face set in firm determination. “Nothing bad can happen to this lot while I’m around.”

“How freely you speak and decide for a home not in your name,” he mused, raising an eyebrow, but it was clear at once his attempt at scolding his teenager were met with apathy.

Lifting up the first kitten to her breast, she merely replied, “I learned that from you.”

…

He told himself like a mantra that he wouldn’t get attached to the liter, but he found himself awfully fond of an all-black kitten that Theo named Ashes. She was the most mild-mannered of her siblings, preferring to sit back and hunt independently rather than quarrel over their milk supply. One morning Aaron awoke to find her magically appeared on his chest in his bed, and he made no move to correct this habit going forward.

…

Theo had naturally taken Storm and her other three offspring when she’d wed Joseph Alston, and Aaron concluded after a few evenings that the loneliness would be too much to bear had she not left his beloved Ashes. As it turned out, the now fully matured cat was just as good as her mother had licking away tears or knowing exactly when to curl and purr against her distraught, stressed owner, and she was all he had to call his own once his legacy disappeared at sea at the tender age of twenty nine.

“Oh my little girl, what to say to you?” He sang quietly and brokenly as he scooped his feline, the last of his immediate family, into his arms. “You were my child, like your mother you were kind and when you came into my life I cried, but you’ll fix my heart. I’m dedicating every day to you, domestic lives weren’t meant to be our styles but I hear you cry and it breaks my heart, and I’ll fall apart. You will come of age like this young nation, and I’ll bleed and cry for you, I’ll make life right for you. If I equip you with a strong foundation, your legacy can live through you, then they’ll always be two of the Burr Family. Someday, someday...Yes, the Burr family.”

Had he finally lost his mind? Perhaps it would fitting, as he’d long lost everything else. Regardless, he was proud to name her first kitten Theodosia, and was even prouder to maintain all of the liters that came after to preserve the last thing he could possibly control. In fleeting moments of self pity, he often thought he deserved better than his tragic lot in life that came after Hamilton, but at least he could give it to his pets and pass them along to his extended family post his illness. 

Much to said family's surprise, the last born kitten he saw he named Hamilton.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for my lack of ability in writing solid endings or parodying lyrics that match up for the entire song, but poor Aaron lost so much in his life and Storm turned out to be the only thing giving him some semblance of a legacy that outlived him. I can only imagine how much that broke him, and I hope you enjoyed this Feel Trip as much as I enjoyed writing it/making myself sad.


	3. His Burn {Role Reversal! Hamliza}

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are no songs for the men who fell victim to their wives disloyalty. Alexander does not have the heart to sing, but as he always does, he shan't let his voice go unheard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely readers! Keep in mind before you read this is ROLE REVERSAL Hamilton, meaning Eliza takes Alex's canon place, Theodosia takes Burr's, and so forth. I resolved not to completely erase the canon characterization regardless, so please understand it is why the characters still behave largely as themselves despite the reversed circumstances. Without further, please enjoy Hamilton's 'first burn'!

Men cheating on their women was nothing new to discuss across social mediums. This never made it any easier for the victims of such betrayal and heartbreak regardless, but it did provide a vast community from which cries of support and secondhand fury arose from constantly. When a woman cheated on a man, there was too a community for that, but it was much more somber and reclusive in nature, reserved for drunken bar talk, conservations spoken in secrecy, and years of emotional scarring. Cheating took its toll on any gender, but especially in a world where men were ridiculed, shunned and killed for displaying weakness, it was damn near impossible to bring the issues back outside of the home.

Of course, this did not stop Elizabeth Schuyler, the dazzling woman who dominated the political game post becoming a decorated war veteran who’d stolen his heart in more ways than one now.

“Alexander…” Her voice said barely above a whisper now, and he could see the outline of her silhouette from the flames burning in their fireplace.

He held the pamphlet she’d published in one hand while gripping the box of letters she’d written him in the other. A woman accumulating so much power was unheard of in their world, and yet she and her sisters had dominated the field along with his wife’s greatest friend-enemy, a sharp-tongued, poised and serious woman named Theodosia. He’d wanted so much from his life in the United States and gotten it, fighting back at home after his now partner came in and stole his heart away, derailing all the plans he’d had before. He’d become content to work in the home, defying gender roles with his short temper and intellectual arguments he’d written countless essays on, and spending so much of his time with the beautiful children he’d made with-

Her. The cheater. The woman he’d married and trusted and given up old dreams for just for her to turn around and cheat on him with one James Reynolds, blackmailed mercilessly from her biggest enemies until she made the Reynolds Pamphlet. 

“I saved every letter you wrote me,” he said quietly as her silhouette flickered along with fire. “From the moment I saw you, I knew you were mine. I mean, you said you were mine, I thought you were mine.”

He focused his attention to the flames, body tensing as he felt her move closer. He forced himself to sit up straight and not give her anything from his demeanor, to not show her all the rage and betrayal that coursed through his veins.

“Do you know what Laurens said when I told him what you’d done? He said, ‘You have married an Icarus, who has flown too close to the sun.”

His beloved best friend, the man who was far more like a brother than James ever could hope to have been. He was understandably furious with the woman Alex knew he loved just as much, but in those first hours, he’d cried and held him and made it oh-so real. As he was sure she didn’t completely understand, his was not the only heart she destroyed.

“Don’t. Take. Another step in my direction-! I can’t be trusted around you!” He snapped back to reality when he saw how large her shadow was on the wall; he could imagine her now, looking timid and small and apologetic, but he did not want it. “Don’t think you can talk your way into these arms, into MY arms!”

It was ironic, truly. He was the one who talked too much for his own good, and he was always the more impulsive of the pair; if he’d ever been unfaithful, he had no doubt he’d probably do something similar. He resolved he did not care as he tightened his grip on the box, throwing it open with a couple of fingers, dropping the pamphlet to the ground, and seized the letters he’d kept in near perfect condition. If he looked at her too long or thought about how much he loved her, he would fall back into her and forgive her with no consequence to what she’d done. Being a woman, she could wriggle free of many predicaments that would lay ruin to a male counterpart, but not this time and not about this.

“I’m burning the letters you wrote me,” he stated aloud, his hands trembling as he stared at the mementos of when he’d fallen so in love. “You can stand over there if you like.”

“Alexander, please just let me explain, you have to listen to me-!”

“I don’t _have_ to do anything!” He snapped, his voice cracking momentarily before he straightened once more and looked over the parchment. “I don’t know who you are. As it turns out, I have so much to learn. I won’t re-read these letters, I’ll just watch them burn.”

With that proclamation made and the tears hazing his vison, he threw all of them into the fireplace and let the tears drip down his face. The letters immediately began dissolving in the flames, the preservation coating making the contained heat pop and rise higher. He knew she was almost directly behind him now, so he turned on his heel and faced her.

“You published the letters he wrote you!” He reminded fiercely, his voice dripping with grief but hardening with rage. “You told the whole world how you brought this man into our bed, and though you cleared your name, you have ruined our lives!”

He brushed past her cruelly, telling himself he did not care when she held herself tightly and stared at the ground with her tears falling. Her enemies whispered, and all too much like he would’ve, she screamed in retaliation. The rumors were all too true and more so, and now the entire town knew how he hadn’t been enough, and how a bastard immigrant could never have been enough to tie down such a brilliant force like Eliza.

“Heaven forbid someone whisper you’re part of some scheme, your stance only rises the more that you scream!” He borderline shouted, quieting when he thought of the poor children likely listening in despite having been sent out for the evening. “Trust me, I know all about whispers. I see how you look at John.”

John had fallen just as captivated with the abolitionist woman with her own opinions and the level head to astound any man. He’d never perused her, left the door open for his brother by heart to whisk her away. He had reason to believe his other brothers in heart felt quite the same about her- who in their right mind wouldn’t?- and it hurt to admit to himself he was more surprised it was with a stranger rather than with one of them.

“Alex-“

“Don’t!” He turned back and made eye contact, watching as her face was distorted by the darkness surrounding his fire. “I’m not naïve! Yes, I have seen men all around you, and don’t think I don’t see how they fall for your charm! All of your charm…”

His clenched his fists and bowed his head, exhaling deeply and silently. Eliza even stepped out of the way he returned to the fireplace, grabbing the pamphlet and holding it up for her to see.

“I’m erasing myself from the narrative,” he said tightly. “Let future historians wonder how Alexander reacted with you broke his heart! You’ve thrown it all away, sit back, honey, watch it all burn!”

He hurled the copy into the fire, watching as it climbed higher seemingly along with his pain. She let an audible sob now, stepping away from the dangerously high fire and clutching herself even tighter. He grabbed the oil lamp he’d used to navigate the halls before coming in the room at present, lighting it swiftly and effortlessly before throwing the pitcher of water over the potential hazard.

“And when the time comes, you can explain the children the pain and embarrassment you put their father through,” Alexander snapped more quietly, looking at her through the light of his lamp before allowing his gaze to drift to the inky doorway. “When will you learn? _They_ are our legacy! WE are your legacy!”

Eliza tried to hold his eye contact as he went to walk past, but he refused to meet her beautiful brown eyes now. He’d nearly exited the room, intending to go comfort their children should they lurking now, when he heard her speak once more.

“My husband…”

He snapped back around despite feeling his anger finally dying down and taking the form of an intense sadly he wondered if he’d ever shake. “If you thought you were mine, don’t.”


	4. Requisition {Hamgelica}

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 1780, A Winter's Ball. Three Schuyler sisters are the envy of all, though when a bastard orphan's eye catches one, it is not the middle, rather the eldest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As much as I ship Hamliza until my last breath, I also have grown to ship these two quite a bit as well as my plethora of gay ships. Please keep in mind that despite all of the love and satisfaction that is depicted here, I am not with those that say he never would cheated had he been with Angelica rather than Eliza; the circumstances would have been much the same despite the roles likely flipped on the two sisters reacting in different ways. Without further adou, please enjoy these babies being happy regardless of their (unfortunate) futures!

All of his life, he’d been told than men like a woman to be compliant, homely, and subservient. A wife was a man’s clay, and as the husband, he’d be the rightful sculptor to ensure she was perfect, reflecting his ideals beautifully without ever stepping out of place. It was just as acceptable to beat and berate a woman, as she would be like a child who needed such harsh correction, and to throw her out if a better replacement came along. Such were the ideas of the general populace, and while many were far too weak willed to enforce such sexist concepts, they still grumbled them in bars and preached them to young men.

Alexander, despite being an outspoken man and one who loved to make others see the faults in their ways, disliked these problematic ideas initially, and post coming to America he learned to despise them. He’d been one to go against the grain on principle, sure, but to have and hold a woman was _privilege._ Even more so, he’d vowed death to the men who treated his mother according to this ideology, and committed to being the model of a real, respectable and loving husband to any of the children he longed to create after the war.

Of course, being a generally good man did not deter him from agreeing that he was reliable with the ‘ _LADIES!_ ’ and talking like he could get any one that he wanted around his friends.

“Ma’am, would you like a dance?” He offered to the youngest Schuyler sister, a stunning young woman named Margarita, or ‘Peggy’. “I cannot help but be drawn to your beauty tonight.”

“It would be a pleasure have I not be fraught with other arrangements,” she eloquently declined, reaching out to touch the hand of a well-to-do young man despite his terribly youthful appearance. “Perhaps later. Adieu!”

He was only discouraged for a moment. She was a rather small creature for her age, he reasoned, and he had no reason to believe she would not be changed as she came of age. He made his way through the dancing crowd, the movements all grandiose, suggestive and precise to the point of making him relieved to harbor at the place servants occasionally emerged with food. He caught his friends’ eyes, all which sparkled and were full of booze and merriment, and he felt a pang of jealously. Had he grown up around such proper people, he’d likely have less Hell at sweeping a woman of her feet, even for just once dance, and yet he was shying away with other less notables. Surely being Washington’s aide-de-camp had to mean _something_ -

A beautiful woman right before him shook him out of his sulky thoughts. She was clearly older than her sister, if not by much, and was positively gorgeous as she extended a hand to him. Unsure of what to say, he gently accepted her invitation and allowed her to lead him into the masses once more.

“You strike me as a woman who has never been helplessly in love,” he finally managed as they swayed, all thoughts of the dances he’d been taught blasted away at the sight of _her_.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” she replied easily, her grip faltering on him momentarily. “Good sir, you forget yourself.”

“You’re like me,” he justified quickly in an attempt to recover, recalling some of the moves and guiding her around him in a circle. “You’ve never had someone come along to make you certain you wish to be with them.”

She seemed bemused, but he could tell he’d won her attention. “Is that right?”

“I’ve never been satisfied,” he summarized with an easy, slightly sorrow tinted smile.

“My name is Elizabeth Schuyler,” she said after a few moments with them simply dancing and listening to the band.

He smiled; he must have earned her respect for her to give a distinction to herself. “Alexander Hamilton.”

“General Washington’s aide-de-camp,” she mused, her eyes lighting up once more as she met his gaze. “You are an immigrant who came to fight in the war, correct?”

“That I am. In New York, you can be a new man,” he responded confidently.

“Is that what you intend to be then, soldier?”

“Yes ma’am. Just you wait,” he agreed as the song finished, bowing to her respectfully as she curtsied. “It has been a pleasure, Miss Schuyler. Until we meet again.”

He was still reeling from his encounter with such a well poised lady when she appeared several minutes later, her expression hardened significantly but her gaze still warm. It was sudden, but he paused his conversation immediately with John Laurens to turn to her, his expression becoming inquisitive.

“Hello again, Miss Schuyler. Laurens here and I were just discussing your practical, no nonsense demeanor,” he greeted.

Her expression softened momentarily, but quickly returned to that of determination. “Is that right? Well, I hope it should not be a point of mutual contention, as this shan’t change.”

His cheeks became dusted with color; how had it that a small woman had reduced him to such a mess in such an eloquent, rapid manor? “Of course not. As a matter of fact, I find it very endearing.”

Her mouth quirked up into a small smile now, and he had once felt relief he’d not yet sabotaged his chances with a woman so fascinating. “That is very good to hear. Now, Mister Hamilton, I have someone who would very much like to meet your acquaintance.”

She wrapped her lace-covered arms around his one of his, leading him briskly and easily through the crowd. On the other side of the ballroom, there stood another radiant woman, one with curly hair and flushed cheeks. When he met her gaze, her blushed deepened despite how her body raised up to show her confidence, and though she may have bowed, her eyes never left his.

“Angelica Schuyler,” she announced. “It is an honor to meet you.”

“Schuyler?” He repeated; was it possible the wealthy Phillip Schuyler had produced three stunning daughters?

“My sister,” Elizabeth responded easily. “She would like to thank you for all your service.”

Angelica’s eyes lit up at her sibling’s words, and she gave her a smile full of unmistakable love and affection. “Quite right she is, good sir. Why don’t we share a dance?”

Once more he felt himself be led out, and this time, he found himself much more inclined to composedly begin to lead her in the routine. Their eyes remained locked, and he had to silently swallow hard before beginning conversation.

“You strike me as a woman who has never been satisfied,” he voiced.

She set her chin higher now, his gaze even more intense. “Perhaps I don’t know what you mean. However, that is an awfully bold statement coming from a man who allowed to dance with my sister.”

“Allowed?” His own blush returned with a vengeance, but he was alarmed to see a woman put him down so swiftly. “Pardon my forthcoming, ma’am, but she clearly has quite as a mind of her own.”

“Indeed she does,” Angelica countered. “And yet, she is my younger sister. You are very handsome, colonel, and it is clear that you know through the way present yourself to the hostesses of this ball. However, I am much more interested in your intentions with my family before I allow you to steal one of us away whilst marrying rich.”  

Had she heard his earlier conversation with Burr? He simply spun her around, not allowing his hands to leave her once as he performed the complex routine without a hiccup. She may be clearly well-versed, but he was set to prove her he was far more worthy of what he sought for despite her accusations.

“You are like me. I’ve never been satisfied,” he said as they resumed their usual pace. “There are a million things I haven’t done, but just you wait.”

“Waiting makes the youthful grow weary,” she replied thoughtfully. “Tell me now, where is your family from?”

His hands fidgeted now, his fingers sliding down her back before he forced them to steady. “Unimportant, just you wait, now, just you wait. I’m going to do far more than you seem to believe me capable of doing, Miss Schuyler.”

As the song ended and they did their pleasantries, her eyes met his and he found himself mirroring her soft, curious and quite clearly endeared expression. “I know you are capable of much, good sir. I intend to find out what your plans are and how a woman like myself can be included in the narrative.”

Was she flirting with him? It seemed to be good to be true, but he gave her a genuine smile and extended his hands. “Shall we have another dance, then? We have much to discuss.”

* * *

 

The oldest Schuyler sister had much to balance upon and thrive in despite of. Her closest sister, her dear Eliza, was practical and loving, traits that would land her with a proper suitor with no trouble when she was also incredibly beautiful. Peggy was stunning in a usually bold and invested manor, and she made her way through the world with the kind of blunt inquisition that would send anyone longing for more. Where would she, the eldest, stand on top of her fantastic younger siblings?

The original goal was to be intelligent to silence any man, and to be the one filled with the most wit and cynicism for the problematic society they lived in. Considering how much younger all of her brothers were, she knew she’d have to marry early in life and marry rich, but she had no reason to believe she’d ever find someone she’d be truly happy with until she met Alexander.

He was the most gorgeous man she’d ever laid her eyes upon, and in a frenzy of being enthralled, she’d grabbed her Eliza, the one who’d danced with him just before, and whispered that that one was ‘hers’. Her sister, the eloquent and trustworthy soul she was, had made her way back to him and delivered him right to her before she could even consider introducing herself. The month that followed had contained their being in a relationship, an equal, fire-filled, intellectually stimulated, and helpless period that only sent them both craving for the other for the rest of their lives. His love letters were the most fantastic she’d ever read, and having her father’s blessing to marry his eldest sent her leaping into her arms and laughing like she was a child.

Now she stood at the alter with him in front of her, her sisters crying with pride along with her usually stoic father. She looked into his eyes the same way she did the first night they’d met, but this time she allowed the lovesick grin to spread across her face as he beamed back at her. The kiss they shared after they were officiated was sweet and gentle, and she did not allow her hand to leave as they celebrated in the reception with their family and friends.

“I do believe you have finally done one thing on your ever-growing list,” she voiced as they looked over the festivities they’d induced by finally being wed.

He looked to her curiously, his smile quirked up with mischief. “Is that so? And what might that be, _Mrs._ Hamilton?”

She wrapped his arms around one of his, resting her head against his shoulder and leaning her mouth up to whisper in his ear. “I am finally satisfied. Shall we go see to it that I make you feel quite the same, _Mr._ Hamilton?”

His face flushed in a way all too similar to the way hers had with they first met, and finally let his mischievous, enamored grin loose. “We shall.”


	5. Best of Sons, Best of Daughters [Burrliza]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested by hamiltonselections and inspired based on our roleplay which I love very much! This was also written in spirit of hamburrfangirl, who has written one of my favorite stories similar to (and what inspired) this one, as she wanted to see more Burr love!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a small note, but 'coming of age' is at twenty one, and this was so much fun to write! I'd love to see more requests so I can write for this fascinating and awesome AUs/concepts/ideas!

Once upon a time, the Burr Family was the most prominent and powerful over their expansive empire. They lived in a mansion that could not possibly fit their numerous staff members alone, but served beautifully for the lavish balls and guests they often hosted. Despite having the obvious requirement for a clear legacy to follow, Aaron Burr Senior and Ester only bore two children, a beautiful maiden named Sarah, and a handsome young man called Aaron Burr (Jr.). As the content and benevolent family of family aged, Sarah, or “Sally”, was wed in a lavish ceremony to one Joseph Reeves, and moved on to rule alongside his kingdom as prince and princess in line to be king and queen.

Aaron Burr Jr. loved his parents dearly, but they were constantly busy with their duties to spent time with him the older he got. Now that he was of age, he longed for a partner of his own, and he had no idea where to begin a successful search. Many princes and kings simply enlisted for a woman of his liking, chose from a batch, and wed her with no real consent from her or her family, but he found that practice to be barbaric in the 21st century. He decided keeping his options open and waiting for the right woman to come along were all that he could do, and proceeded to spend his lonely days either studying or going out into the villages and interacting with the commoners.

“You little imp!” A shrill voice cut out on above the masses on a unbearably hot summer’s day Aaron was spending helping feed and water his poorest citizens. “I’ll hang you for this, don’t think that I won’t!”

A terrified child no more than seven was running from the angry old lady, who was wielding a broom and wore a terribly nasty expression. Feeling for the poor thing, he cut between the two and extended his arm in a protective manor toward the small boy as the woman stopped in her tracks.

“Prince Burr, this child has stolen from me for the last time! He has no business being a thief; I say we ought to wring his little neck and teach his disgusting family a lesson!” She declared, her bloodshot, furious gaze still on the young boy.

“That is barbaric and unnecessary,” Aaron responded sternly, unimpressed by her lack of judgement and moral compass. “I will compensate whatever the child stole and will handle it from here.”

In one smooth motion, he plunked one of his bags with approximately twenty five silver and twenty five gold coins into the hag’s hands and turned to address the child. Said child had already scrambled away and was now clinging to a young woman dressed in little more than rags, her eyes marked heavily by deep bags and her face covered by dirt and marks of violence. Despite her exhausted demeanor, her eyes snapped to his own as he approached.

“Prince Burr,” she said tensely. “I apologize for the inconvenience. I’m afraid we cannot pay you back with money; however, I can direct you to our father to discuss how you’d like retribution.”  

“There is no need, ma’am. You must eat, after all,” Aaron pardoned in a gentle tone. “Please, take this case of supplies for your family. Do you need one for your father?”

The woman looked grimly down at the two cases, which were small foam coolers full of ice, food and drinks, and was about to reply when an older man came over and threw his arm around her. Aaron didn’t miss how she flinched away slightly and how the boy hid behind her grimy dress, but he didn’t mention it outright.

“We appreciate ya kindness, sir, but we don’t need no handouts from the likes of you,” the man scoffed, giving him a condensing, fake grin.

“Papa, this man believes we have wronged him,” the woman said quietly. “The judgement of payment was brought up.”

“I know ya ain’t been stealing again,” the man growled, his glare suddenly deep and menacing on his two offspring.

“No, Papa,” the woman lied easily, but her hands and body posture were tight. “The locals here have been imagining things again.”

The man bought it, but he still looked to the prince with a sneer. “What do you want from us, you entitled little snowflake? If you really want to help us out, you’ll take this bitch off my hands!”

Aaron set is jaw tightly, but he refused to give this scum the satisfaction of his anger. “Are you offering your daughter to me as a suitor, then?”

“That depends. How much will it pay to give her to you? This is my eldest daughter from home, your _highness_ ,” the man crooned, looking up through his lids like the Cheshire cat.

“As much as you like.” Aaron squared his shoulders and gave him a cold look, one that sent all three of them stepping backwards. “Deliver her to me on this following Saturday and I will give you what you desire. Good day.”

As he walked back to his home, he felt a rage bubbling up in his stomach that cooled with clarifying thought. No matter what the cost, he would protect the terrified, clearly abused young woman and her sibling, and he would keep them away from their lowlife father.

* * *

 

“My father says I am to preform premarital acts with you,” Eliza stated tensely as she turned to face the man who’d essentially _bought_ her. “How long will you be keeping me?”

The young man’s face looked shocked, but she didn’t buy the innocent act. All her life she’d been trained to see through smoke in mirrors and sweet lies, and how to bend others’ favor to ensure her and her family survived. Her father was fairly well off due to his former wife’s heritage, but one would never guess it based on the way his children walked around in filthy, soiled clothes and stole scraps to stay alive. Ever since their mother’s death when she was sixteen, her father had become a selfish, resentful man, one who that hit his children constantly and let them go without basic necessities so he could keep living large while he intended for his offspring to perish. It was only through her willpower and her two closest sisters occasionally sending money to her directly that she’d kept her siblings alive, and she was very thin and very untrusting as a result.

“I never indicated to him I’d ever do such a thing, especially without your consent!” Prince Burr said quickly, face pink. “I would like to welcome you to my home, Miss Schuyler.”

“Call me Eliza,” she corrected quietly, half expecting him to strike her or at least demean her, but he simply nodded and led her through his mansion in a one-on-one tour.

“And these will be your quarters,” he concluded, showing her to a room that she was positive was the size of her current- well, now former- home. “All of the resources are yours to use and to discard at your comfort. This bathroom is yours privately, so you need not worry about anyone bothering you unless you’d like the maids to wake you or tuck you in.”

“Your maids tuck you in?” She arched an eyebrow.

“No, no, but…Well, alright, occasionally,” he confessed with a shy grin. “I get too tired to properly escort myself to sleep, so they will occasionally ensure it happens.”

She gave him one of her unreadable looks, but she was fascinated by the life of luxury he had and what he was now extending to her. She sent him away with assurances that she was fine and stepped into the shower, bathing herself for so long she feared the water would turn frigid, thinking about her siblings who deserved this far above herself the duration. If he truly intended to court and wed her, there was no chance he’d allow her siblings to take residence here as well until that were the case, and so she made a decision to sacrifice her own desire to ensure her brothers and sisters would live through the summertime.

“When shall be wed, good sir?” She asked politely as they ate dinner together that night, her stomach aching from all the food she’d consumed.

Prince Burr- no, he’d said to call him Aaron- gave her a bewildered look as his cheeks darkened. “We haven’t even dated, Miss Schuyler. If you’d like me to take you out sometime-“

“I’m not naïve,” she interrupted, keeping her hardened gaze down. “You would not take a street urchin off the street like myself if you did not wish for something in return. I implore you to tell me what that is so I may get back to my siblings.”

“Siblings?” He repeated. “You have more than one?”

“…Yes sir, I do.”

Aaron was silent for a long moment before asking, “Does your Papa treat them the same way he treats you?”

“…He does.”

His face was somber as he stood up, wiping his mouth and giving her a smile that was suddenly warm. “I will take care of things, Miss- I mean, Eliza. If you need me, you know where to find me.”

With that he was gone, disappearing back into his maze of a home. Eliza had no idea what he intended to do, but she stayed up until the middle of the morning trying to decide what it could be. She was still asleep under the mountains of covers and pillows when she felt three small thumps, jarring her awake even more when she saw it was her three youngest siblings in bed with her.

“Cornelia, Catherine, Rensselaer!” She cried out, scooping up the respective four, two and seven year olds into her arms. “What are you doing here?!”

“Prince Burr told us we get to live here now!” Rensselaer chirped happily. “Paid Papa a lot of money for it, too!”

She decided to push her questions to the back of her mind as she quickly bathed them all, dressing them in brand new clothes from the sacks Cornelia pointed out that Aaron had bought for all of them. She allowed the castle staff to feed them and her two older younger brothers, John, who was sixteen, and Phillip Jeremiah, who was fourteen. It was after finishing her own breakfast that she walked through the mansion in her new simple blue sundress, in search of the mysterious prince who’d shown her family so much kindness.

She finally found him overlooking some of his future kingdom, his outfit consisting of a loose white shirt that left little about his muscles to imagination and a pair of shorts that showed off his curves quite nicely. She found herself blushing a bit as she padded to his side, leaning over the balcony railing herself and giving him an inquisitive look.

“What have you gain by saving us?” She asked softly. “We cannot provide you with anything.”

“You provide me with family,” Aaron replied simply, smiling at her with such sincerity she felt she may kiss him. “My parents are older and constantly busy. I’d much rather live in a house full of such clear love, laughter and little ones than one empty. It is my pleasure to have them, Eliza, but it is more so my pleasure to have you. Thank you.”

She was unsure of what to say, so she simply returned a smile and looked over the kingdom that she once found to be a prison. Perhaps Aaron was one of the only good people left in the world, but she was sure it wouldn’t last the more he learned about her troubled past. In the meantime, she resolved to try and enjoy it until the eventual downfall of her family’s happiness.

* * *

 

Falling in love was complicated, but it was completely natural. The days turned into weeks, which added into months and neared a year before he finally worked up the courage to propose. Aaron had been walking in the garden with his Eliza- Betsey, he called her affectionately- when he got to one knee and told her he longed for her to be his forever. Much to his excitement, she cried and said yes, but that was far from the end of their adventure.

Only weeks post the siblings moving in, he’d lost his father due to overworking, and months later lost his mother. His had Phillip Schuyler father arrested after he tried to kill his flowering daughter by starving her and forcing her into an eating disorder, and the responsibilities of being a king so suddenly often got to him late at night when he had to make very difficult decisions. Eliza was right by his side through it all, even when they had to conquer and triumph over one of the worst rebel attacks the kingdom had seen in years occurred directly post their engagement.  The encounter left him seriously injured and brought up mental and emotional scars he’d never known about in her, and yet she, with her level head and relentless practicality, ran the kingdom beautifully and appeared in the public eye as they worked together to solve problems concerning corruption within the kingdom and he healed.

Needless to say, Aaron was happy to finally put on the wedding of her dreams two and a half years since they’d met, and given how radiantly she glowed even without all the makeup and dolling up that made her drop-dead gorgeous, she felt quite the same. Her oldest younger brother gave her away at the alter and the entire kingdom rejoiced when they kissed post legally being wed and her becoming Queen. The celebration lasted an entire week’s time, and during their honeymoon, he took her to all the places on their mutual bucket list while the castle staff got some much needed paid time off and the younger siblings got a vacation of their own in his sister’s kingdom.

Now they sat together in the garden they’d first met in and he’d proposed in, her belly round with their expectant child as he held her hand. In all of his years, he never thought he’d meet the woman of his dreams, and yet there she was in all of her glowing beauty and grace with the beginnings of a family of their own.

“Aaron?” She spoke, her brown eyes wide and shiny as she looked to him.

“Yes, my darling?”

“Thank you. For everything.”

He simply smiled and leaned in, kissing her lips and telling her the truth as he would now know it forever. “No, Betsey, thank _you_. You are the reason I survived all that I have, and I have simply tried to return the favor. I love you.”

For once, she smiled back and accepted the compliment as she snuggled into his chest. “Well, if you insist. Lord knows I love you too.”

And perhaps they didn’t live perfectly, but they did live happily and they did live with more than either of them could have ever hoped for alone. Therefore, King Burr, Queen Elizabeth, and all of their family lived happily ever after; the end.


	6. You Can Stay {Madria}

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes relationships are built to fall together and fall apart constantly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This short story was requested by NonibelleWonder, and is based off of the prompt/song "Poetic Justice" Kendall Lamar! Thank you again for the request and the support, it means a lot! ^-^

Perhaps she just had a thing for men with his first name, and perhaps he had a thing for people he couldn’t have. Either way, James Madison found that all of his poems and all of songs had begun to revolve around her, and it was beginning to be a bit much to stand.

“So when am I going to be able to meet your mysterious stranger?” His best friend’s voice drawled over the speaker phone as he half laid over his desk, his brain fried from trying to think of something, _anything_ , to get his mind off of _her_.

“What the hell are you talking about, Thomas?” He grumbled.

“Oh, don’t try to act all innocent now!” Thomas chided, the devilish grin in his voice evident. “I saw you stumbling home the other night with someone wrapped up in your arms like a lovesick puppy! Come on, Jemmy, what’s her name?”

Maria. Maria Reynolds, a married woman who’d been in love with him and who’d stolen his heart directly after her engagement with ‘the other James’. It was no secret between them how she felt, but she faced the prospect of being socially ruined and possibly killed if she left him quickly. He was a prominent and dangerous man, and while they both longed to be with each other more permanently than quick bathroom sessions and rare nights in the other’s home, he wouldn’t risk her safety for himself any day.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” James replied easily. “How are you and Martha? Did her appointment go well yesterday?”

Perhaps he would have never gotten wrapped up in the gorgeous woman in red had his best friend not friend zoned him before he got the chance to tell him how he felt. Thomas had been dating Martha for a few months, sure, but the elaborate proposal came as a surprise to him. Thomas had bought dozens of fireworks just to spell out the question during the local fourth of July event, and of course she’d cried and said yes with such love and such passion he knew they’d found each other as soulmates. Now that they’d wed and she was pregnant, his best friend couldn’t be more ecstatic, and James was just as alone as he felt when he first lost love.

“She’s carrying really well!” Thomas reported. “We’re still trying to settle on a name, though. What do you think about…Madison?”

His cheeks flushed; would he really name his first born after _him_? “Th-that sounds…that sounds really nice. Let me know what you decide, okay? I have to go.”

“Alright, alright. See ya around.”

“See you.”

 He ended the line and let his head thump on the desk. His producer might be eating up the new album he’d created and recorded, but he was unsure how his fans would react to such a somber, lust-filled album post the summertime hits he’d released the year prior. He lifted his head, staring hard at the blank paper, his brain grinding to think of saying something different, saying something to _her_ that would help him get all of his feelings of hurt and longing out without love songs and tales of heartbreak.

It was almost poetic, the way they fell together and continued to fall apart, and it was terribly unfair. James wrote down the words ‘poem’ and ‘justice’, and like a lightbulb had been activated in his mind, began writing and discarding until he finally held a finished product in his hands. He typed it into his laptop and sent it off to his producer, deciding to figure out the rhythm and melodies at a later time.

A knock at the door interrupted his contemplation for what would be the final track of the album, as well as what he’d chose to be the title. When he opened it, he was surprised to see Maria standing there in a sundress that showed her curves very, very well, her hair done up and makeup styled like she was a woman on a mission.

“Miss Reynolds,” he greeted coolly.

Her face fell slightly, and he immediately felt bad. “My Jemmy.”

“So what are the circumstances allowing you to be here right now?” He asked somberly, his gaze unable to not wander to her well-toned, inviting figure.

“He’s a liar and a cheater,” she responded with a tight smile. “I’m tired of his games, Jem. I just want to wake up every morning with you.”

Finally relinquishing how he was trying to contain himself, James reached his arms around her and squeezed her backside, lifting her hungrily against his own frame. “That can be arranged.”

That night was the most passionate, intimate and meaningful they’d ever had, and James went to sleep with full confidence they’d finally gotten their relationship figured out for good. When he opened his eyes again, however, she was gone with a text saying that she’d begin to file for divorce, but the battle was far from over in the interest of their mutual safety. He was furious at first, but it quickly gave way to tears the more he tried to conjure a way to end it with her out of spite. He was in love with her in the worst kind of way, and as long as she kept coming back, he would be patient until he wouldn’t have to let her go.

He titled his last song, a ballad about their relationship in a much more positive light, the same as his album and the same as the text he ended up sending her directly after that night (though the text was prefaced with an, ‘alright, but just so you know’): You Can Stay.


	7. A Procession of Events [Hamliza]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In a bustling era full of lights, money and roaring potential, an unlikely pair cross paths to become something greater than they could ever be alone. 1920s Hamliza.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MATURE CHAPTER! Basically, there is implied and suggested gun violence, and a promiscuous woman. You have been warned, my lovelies. This concept with based off the very lovely and talented hamiltonselections! ♥

Growing up in a strict home meant a lot of things. It meant that you were rarely allowed to leave the house alone, and that when you did, you’d be severely punished if you were seconds after your curfew of 8 PM. It meant that even when you were well of age to begin searching for a suitor, your father kept all of his daughters cooped up and working as his servants or as his pride and joys during ‘rich people events’, as her younger siblings like to call them. These were the only occasions where any of the Schuyler sisters had a chance of being courted and saved from their dreary, monotonous life of perfect obedience, but thus far, Eliza had performed more poorly than her beloved Peggy, who was hardly eighteen, and she paled in comparison to the radiant and loving Angelica, who’d recently gotten engaged to the very powerful and wealthy Thomas Jefferson.

            “Peggy, I fear we may be single for the rest of our days,” the nineteen year old commented unhappily as she stood at her sister’s side, watching all the guests dance and Thomas flirt easily with Angelica, who flirted and teased back like she’d been in love with him her entire life.

“Speak for yourself!” The eighteen year old giggled lightly, casting a shy wave at the very popular- and even better, partial political counterpart to their father- Aaron Burr, who blew her a sly kiss back.

“Of course,” she muttered to herself unhappily before sliding to her father’s side. “Father? I am feeling quite ill, may I go home?”

Phillip Schuyler cast a look across the room, spotting his eldest and grunting haughtily. “Mister Jefferson and your responsible sister are to escort you home. I need not tell you of the consequences should you divert from your usual path, correct?”

She’d taught herself to be cool and steady no matter what may come, so she didn’t wince she he gave her arm a firm squeeze. “Yes sir, I know what will happen. I will behave, sir.”

As she walked home, she silently lamented her struggles. If she were to never marry, she’d be indentured to her abusive, controlling father forever simply because she was born, and being a young woman in America, she was baffled to be told there was nothing she could truly do about it. Her sister asked her if she was alright a couple of times, but she simply brushed her off politely and flopped on the living room couch once she was inside and the intended couple had gone on.

‘At least I have some time to myself,’ she thought to herself with a small sigh. ‘I could draw a bath and make this night some redeemable.’

She flung off her heels with unceremonious hanger, taking satisfaction in how they crashed against the wall with no parent to scold or punish her. To cover her traces, she seized this at once and began her way up the staircase, reaching behind her and dropping her layers of clothing on every other step, relishing in the naughtiness before scooping them back up. By the time she was on the top step, she was able to drop her entire dress, leaving her completely exposed with nobody to criticize or hurt her for being so bold and independent.

“What will you do about this, Father?” She demanded to the empty house with a haughty laugh of her own. “Nothing! You can’t control me! My name is Elizabeth Schuyler, and I can be like this any time I want in my own home!”

A loud crash rang across the corridors, sending her running for her life into her room while her heart skipped a beat. Her siblings had been sent to her aunt’s for the week, but that didn’t mean one didn’t stay behind or that they weren’t come early, and it would take an immense amount of bribing to get them to stay silent about her bold behavior. She was resigned to beg to her innocent but mischievous family members as she slipped on new undergarments and her nightgown, but she froze in her tracks when she saw who was in her home instead.

It was a young man, one likely older than her, but not by much. His face was flushed up to his ears, and he had a satchel full of things slung over each shoulder as well as a humongous backpack on his back, clearly at full capacity as well. He was holding the family safe in his hands- well, now he was clutching it to his chest- and he looked all the same as a young child who’d be caught stealing a cookie at night.

“Wh-who are you?!” She demanded, a scream hitching her throat when he gave her a mischievous grin.

“Just passing through, ma’am,” he drawled in an accent she found immensely hard to discern. “Don’t pay any mind to me.”

“Th-that’s our safe!” She stuttered, eyes wide and entire body trembling. “Yo…you’re stealing from us! People like you should be in jail; you’re a nasty criminal!”

“I’d be careful about what you call me.” His set down the safe, and by the sound of the object he pulled out, she knew with a cold sense of realization he had a gun. “Where I come from, there are consequences when a woman speaks so out of line.”

If this was her only chance out of her hellish life, she realized with a sudden surge of clarity she ought to take it. She dropped her arms and walked toward him, back straight and eyes never leaving his own piercing blue ones. He even took a couple of steps back, extending his pistol until the end touched her forehead. Despite all of her survival instincts screaming for her to run or plead, she remained sturdy as her eyes sent him a silent dare to end her life right there.

“You’re the most damn courageous woman I’ve ever met,” the criminal finally said, lowering his weapon. “I’d be a stupid man to kill you when you’ve clearly got some wits and some guts as well.”

“You might as well,” she blurted before she could fully think. “I…I don’t have any joy in this life. You can make sure there are no witnesses, and you’d have done someone a big favor. Go ahead.”

His expression was hard to read, but he put away the gun completely as he spoke, his eyes never leaving her own with the same intensity. “What do you mean you don’t have any joy here? You live in a mansion with thousands, millions even, of dollars that can easily replace anything I leave with. I’m sure your husband is a very good man to you to give you all this.”

“I have no husband,” she responded bluntly, her expression darkening as she was reminded. “Just a controlling father.”

“Is that why I’ve never seen you around town?” He inquired, eyes twinkling with something new she’d never seen in someone before.

“I doubt we’d ever cross paths, anyway,” she murmured with a pained laugh. “He’s very strict about where I am to go and when I am to come back. It’s a very boring life, but…”

There was no upside other than the fact she had someone to love her, she supposed. She stepped backwards, sighing softly as she cast a look to the safe. If he took it, her father still had most of his fortune in the banks, and they’d be just fine without it. She could always say she wasn’t home before they were robbed, or that she was threatened at gun point; both would still get her punished, but maybe one meant one less severe.

“I’ve found something much more interesting and valuable than any coin or jewelry,” the criminal suddenly decided, walking away and returning empty handed. “Why don’t I take the crotchety bastard’s daughter instead?”

Leaving without a trace? Angelica had already promised to take their younger siblings into her custody as soon as she was married, and Peggy would have no problem wiggling out before then. Instead of her being left behind and caught between a rock and a hard place, she could reject both and run away with a new man, who she barely knew but seemed exciting and intelligent. She looked at him in stunned silence, a smile slowly making its way across her flushed face.

“I think that sounds much more worth your while, Mister…?”

“Alexander Hamilton. I’m at your service, Miss Schuyler.” He took off his fedora and bowed at the waist at her, making her giggle and accept his extended hand.

“Please, call me Eliza.”

* * *

 

This was where the road ended, he supposed. He sat in single cell confinement, twiddling his thumbs back and forth as he listened to guards scream at prisons while other inmates heckled back or did their secret transactions between the walls. The place he’d be thrown into was maximum security, and while he supposed it was far considering the many, many crimes he’d committed, he didn’t make it any more bearable.

“Alright, alright, lights out!” One of the guards barked, and moments later the electricity shrieked to being off with the certainly hazardous light box being yanked to the ‘off’ position.

The prison was rarely quiet, but there was nothing for a solid few moments. Then, a pair of bright, wide eyes appeared at his bars, and he was equally shocked and delighted when he realized that only one person in the entire world had that look.

“Betsey?” He whispered, rushing to hold her hands through the barrier. “How did you get in here? Are you okay, did anyone hurt my angel?”

“Nope, I’m okay,” she assured, grinning in the moonlight flowing through the barred window and holding up a large ring of keys. “Now, do you want me to help you get out of here?”

“God, I love you.”

They went quickly, both slipping through the first two layers of security before they found themselves backed into a corner. The guards had evidently woken up at the very end, and to try and ambush them would be disastrous. They sat side by side, both holding their breaths until the officers started a casual conversation to cover up small sounds by the convicted and his girlfriend.

“We can’t keep waiting here,” Alex murmured in her ear. “They make rounds, and if they find us here, we’re done for.”

“But if we try and go out, they might shoot us,” Eliza muttered back, her usually passionate and thoughtful chocolate eyes now shiny with tears. “Goodness, what was I thinking trying to bust you out? Now we’re both going to be locked up.”

He cast a side glance at the security, then looked back to the woman he loved more than anything else in the world. They were across the country from where they’d first met, and despite all the crimes he’d committed and she’d acted as a ‘hostage’ or clueless within, she was largely innocent. Even though she only mentioned it a few times, he knew she dreamt of a stable life, one where the two of them stopped all the robbing and adventures and settled in with a few children and a nice house they earned honestly. It was always what she wanted deep down, and as he watched her huddle in fear in the humid, unforgiving prison, he knew what he had to do.

“I’m going to turn myself in,” he said softly, squeezing her hand tightly. “Look, they’ll give me a nicer sentence if I play by their rules. You just put these keys up front and I’ll see you on the other side.”

“What if they convict you for life? You’ll get at least ten years!” She whispered frantically, wrapping her hands around his arm. “I can’t live without you, Alexander! I’ll be forced to live my father, I’ll be made to marry someone, I-I-I’ll…”

“Hey.” He pulled her so they looked deeply into each other’s gaze, a small, reassuring smile playing on his lips. “I’ll figure it out here. You are the badass woman behind the infamous vigilante of the people, Alexander Hamilton. Nobody can make you do a damn thing you don’t want to do. Hold down things for me until I come out a clean man, alright?”

It was true; though he did occasionally rob for his own gain, he was generally a ‘Robin Hood’ for the poor and beaten down of communities. His name was passed around, and though authorities disliked him, nobody hated him more the bigwigs and privileged snobs he took from. With enough time and faithfulness to helping the public without breaking laws, he was sure he could be released with plenty of life left to begin something new and precious with his beloved Eliza. As they stared into each other’s eyes, her tears slipped down and she stood up, pressing herself into the dark corner.

“Kiss me like you’re going to miss me,” she whispered, and he did, passionately and with so much intent he was sure their lips were pink and swollen when they broke apart. “Stay alive, you nasty criminal. I’ll see you on other side.”

He grinned; there was his Betsey. “I love you.”

“God knows I love you too.”

Through his peripheral vision as he stepped out and surrendered himself to the authority figures in saying ‘I got lost, I didn’t hear lights out’, he saw his love quickly make her way to the front desk and begin to act like a confused visitor so she could safely get out. As he sat back down on his bed, he purposefully pulled out a notebook he’d bought for a dollar at the prisons’ store and began to jot down ideas on how to be a missionary _and_ a proper citizen, too.

* * *

It had been five years, nine months, and twenty six days since she’d been able to hold him in her arms properly without knowledge he’d been yanked away too soon. She was dressed in a nice navy top and a white skirt, one that would be scandalously short for her bastard father to see should he ever again, and stood expectantly as he went through the customs to freedom. When she spotted him being escorted outside, she could barely contain herself he stepped outside of the gates, allowing her to sprint over and leap into his arms, laughing and crying softly with joy as he caught her easily.

“Did you hold down things?” He whispered, his own voice trembling with emotion as he held her tight.

“I went to school,” she whispered back. “Father’s money, of course. I have a job at a local factory shop and am more than ready to begin a real life with my freed man.”

He beamed and set her down, his hand still securely laced in hers as they looked toward the city of hopes, dreams, and where they would begin a family. The city had been kind to her; it had given her opportunity and given her man back a different person, and it seemed to open wider with potential and beautiful hope as they walked in search of their first home or apartment. Living in a free, slightly damaged and plenty excited life meant a lot of things, but for the first time in her life, Eliza would more than ready to accept what they may be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts and suggestions are still very much open and are very welcome as I continue this story! The more ideas/suggestions/prompts I have to work with, the more content I can produce! ♥


	8. Quarter Celebration [Modern! Johnliza]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elizabeth Schuyler Hamiton's birthday is August 9th, so a birthday themed chapter was appropriate with the semi-potential couple in my other work, my Role Reversal AU, where John spends his life looking for satisfaction. In this modern setting, Eliza has had a very hard day and her beloved family members, both future and present, know just how to redeem her twenty fifth birthday.

**Angie Pansy:** Sisters, you would not believe the day I’ve had

 **Pegleg:** Oof

 **Pegleg:** A Whole Mood

 **Betsey:** Same

 **Pegleg:** Lol rip

Eliza smiled fondly down at her phone but pocketing it in favor of keeping ice cream and groceries balanced in her hands/arms. She’d had quite the day, and while every day tended to be exhausting dealing with twenty four preschoolers in one room, this one was one for the metaphorical books. She’d had to clean up separate children’s throw up due to summer stomach bug makes its’ rounds, had to deal with about half the class having tantrums when their outdoor time was reduced to save them from heat exhaustion, one child got so overwhelmed they peed in their chair, and two were particularly clingy because their mother had recently been deployed and they missed her terribly. She undeniably loved the job she had the privilege of having for the past five years, but that did not mean it did not take a lot out of her, especially on this day of all days.

 **Angie Pansy:** Clients don’t read their cases and then get mad when I quote them and they don’t understand what I’m defending, or they tell me I’m trying to incriminate them with false evidence and details they forgot were put in. Like, did these people have a Civics class? I need to know for a few reasons.

 **Pegleg:** Lol I hate my job bc customer service

 **Betsey:** I love my children but they can be more than I can handle tbh

 **Pegleg:** Y u insist to run the classroom with one assistance. Do u just like pain

 **Pegleg:** We’re your sisters, we won’t judge

 **Pegleg:** O no I killed our sibling

 **Eliza:** Hardy har har. I just got to my apartment, brb

She pulled her key up from her lanyard and jimmied it in the lock, expecting the quiet familiarity of her apartment with the lights off. She wasn’t planning anything special for herself this year, not really; just a nice dinner with her beloved when the weekend came and it was convenient for everybody. Needless to say, she was quite surprised when she stepped inside and the lights flipped on, revealing a literal fold-out plastic kitchen table full of her favorite foods and a beautiful blue cape covered with whipped cream icing.

“Happy birthday!” Several voices declared, her much loved family and friends who were like family popping out from various hiding places with delighted grins.

She immediately screamed, partially from excitement and partially from genuine alarm, and ran toward her closest sisters, who were the closest from underneath the table. “You all, you didn’t have to do this for me!”

“Oh, we would’ve done it even if it hadn’t been your boyfriend’s idea,” Angelica told her with a grin, kissing her left cheek as Peggy kissed her right.

“Yeah!” The youngest Irish triplet said excitedly. “We were just going to do it on Saturday, but noooo, he insisted it _had_ to be your actual birthday! I mean, I can’t blame his logic…”

“Jonathan Laurens!” She called above the swells of her blood relatives, beaming when her grinning partner emerged with several candles in hand. “You orchestrated all of this for me? I told you nothing too fancy!”

“And I told you it wasn’t going to happen!” He replied proudly, walking toward her and capturing her lips with a tender kiss. “I love you too much to not celebrate your arrival to the planet in glorious fashion.”

Though it wasn’t her childhood home, she did find it to be quite fantastic as they all ate and sipped tasty wine together, joking about the old times and watching the children play and sing a little song they’d composed with her mother on piano about how much they loved their second oldest sister, which made her cry which made them concerned. As they night wore on, she blew out her twenty five candles with a bit of assistance from her youngest two siblings, laughing and allowing John to stuff the first bite in her mouth like it was their wedding.

“You are such a goober,” she told him fondly, licking at the icing around her mouth. “You act as though tonight we are married!”

“There would be no finer a day to marry you!” He replied, and she wasn’t able to inquire if that was his dorky, heartfelt proposal before she was rushed to get her piece so the rest of them could dig in as well.

Her presents were as unnecessarily extravagant and excellently practical as she always loved; a new laptop to replace her three year old one, more paints for her modest art, new music books to learn through and journals to write in, and of course all the school supplies for her classroom that she’d need to get through the first semester confidently. She kissed her family’s cheeks and foreheads until she was sure she’d run dry, and was setting up her new device when John shimmied his way to her side. She was expecting him to be a least tipsy, but the very light of alcohol was all she caught when she put her head on his shoulder and kissed her the side of her face.

“Not drinking tonight?” She asked softly. “Just because I have class tomorrow doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to have more than a sip or two with me.”

“I want to remember your quarter of your life birthday,” he replied with a blush dusting his cheeks, making her heart melt while becoming full beyond what she thought it capable.

“Quarter life? Do you really think I’ll live to be 100?” She asked softly, unaware how her family’s eyes were all on them now.

“Well…I’m not sure,” he confessed, but before she could react he stood up. “Eliza, you have made my life far better what it could ever be before. You are a very kind, fantastically talented, generous, and entirely beautiful woman. You saved me from the lowest point of my life and breathed so much joy and fulfillment into me, and I’ve tried for the past two years to give that back to you despite all my faults. I’m not always the best boyfriend-“

“Don’t be ridiculous!”  

“I may be flawed?” He offered, his blush deepening at once. “But I do know I love you more than I could ever express in a million words. I want to spend the rest of our lives together, growing and loving and making a million mistakes and if I’m lucky, making a family. Well…What I’m trying to ask…Elizabeth Marie Schuyler, will you marry me?”

She dropped to her knees as he took to one, kissing him so fiercely and throwing her arms around him so bodily they both fell to the ground giggling and kissing. “Yes, yes of course!”

As her family cheered and her boyfriend- no, her handsome, nearly perfect _fiancé_ \- slipped her brand new engagement band on, she concluded that had all been a day she’d relive a million times if it lead to this duel celebration of life and love.


	9. (R)esolution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based off the "My R' cover by Rachie, Alexander learns resolution is never quite as resolute as anyone it tends to me. 
> 
> MAJOR TRIGGER WARNINGS FOR SUICIDE ATTEMPTS, ABUSE, AND SELF HARM. DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE TO THESE THINGS.
> 
> The National Suicide Prevention Life, open 24/7, 365: 1-800-273-8255.   
> A text service I've used in times of personal crisis/depression/anxiety: Text HOME to 741741
> 
> Be safe, my loves. ♥

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As stated in the summary, this one-shot is EXTREMELY MATURE. Though there is a happy ending, SUICIDE, ABUSE, AND SELF HARM ARE DEPICTED AT LARGE AND THIS STORY SHOULD BE READ IF YOU MAY GET TRIGGERED. Take care of yourselves, my loves. Be safe, and I'll see you next time for a much more light hearted chapter. Remember, you are valuable, you are important, and the world needs you even when you feel you're at worse.
> 
> The National Suicide Prevention Life, open 24/7, 365: 1-800-273-8255.   
> A text service I've used in times of personal crisis/depression/anxiety: Text HOME to 741741

Alexander resolved beforehand that there would never be a better time to finally stop all the pain that raged through his body every day. The autumn wind tousled his lengthy brown hair as he made his way up to the highest building in town, one that was once a bank before it was ran into the ground by a mixture of competition and violent, sexual scandals that raged the place infamous. Plenty of bidders were still fighting for the rights to expansive and modern building, and though he had an internal bet that the very rapidly expanding publishing company would be brought in due to necessity, potential, and money, he had no intention of being around to find out. In the notebook a little over two thirds full of lengthy letters he’d written for the people he loved, he wrote that his best friend was required to come to his grave and tell it the results, just in case he ended up as a ghost in limbo.

“Hey!” He yelped as he looked up from unlacing his favorite shoes, realizing with a weight that dropped hard in his stomach once he realized that a girl- a woman- with braided hair was his unexpected company on the top of the roof. “Hey…Don’t do it. Please.”

She was sitting on the railing that separated the view from the peril, her somewhat long dark hair in the beautifully crafted and tied braids that overlapped into each other, and a varsity styled jacket in pastel pink covered up a pale green summer dress that billowed away from her curvy, slender body. At the sound of his plea, which he himself had no idea why he’d exclaimed when he insisted internally he was apathetic if she were to die as well, she turned around partially and revealed sad hazel eyes that sparkled in the sunset.

“I’d tell you my woes, but you’ve probably heard it all before,” she said in an exhaustedly melancholy tone before turning to face the city once more.

Given how he seemed to be a human comfort to most of his friends, he was sure he likely had. As he slowly felt his legs walking to her, he found himself silently lamenting that she was stealing his own opportunity to release himself from the mortal coil, but his empathy sharply countered that nobody like her deserved to go in such a state. There was no reason to die on the rooftop of an empty building, even if the view was spectacular, especially if she was even a little better than him. Despite how she seemed weighed down by her plights, he had no reason to assign her morality considering he was positive his own was incomparably worse; it was with all this in mind he sat beside her on the railing. For a few serene moments, all to be heard was the winds and the occasional squeak beneath them as they perched together, legs side by side and lazily swinging, and he felt his breath catch when they made direct eye contact and he saw how her irises shone in the sun and how her dark, curly hair was coming undone around her beautiful, youthful face.

“You’ve probably heard it all before, like I said,” she began with a heavy sigh. “I met…I met my ex-boyfriend nearly three years ago. We spent so much time together and loved so fiercely I figured it would never end, and without warning, he announces to me he’s ‘done’ before proposing to the other girl he’d been  cheating on me with. The girl looked so happy and had never heard my name before, I found out, and so I was happy for them and attended their wedding, but…Well, needless to say I’ve been left with some pretty gaping holes in my heart.”  

“And that’s why you’re up here, wanting to throw away your life for someone who never loved you?” He demanded with more piss and vinegar than he originally intended, but it was completely true he knew a sour love was absolutely nothing to commit suicide over. “For God’s sake, please! You must be kidding me, and for some stupid reason you got here before me, so now we’re together and bound by fate no matter what we do. I know you’re upset because you can’t have what you wanted, but you’re lucky you’ve never been robbed of anything by death or by desperate criminals. There’s a whole life ahead of you to go live! Are you going to let the asshole get the better of you and never have a better life?”

The young woman looked thoughtful for a long moment before she swung her legs back to the safer side, getting to her feet and helping him down before speaking. “I’ve feeling better, thank you for listening.”

“Anytime,” he replied softly. “You’re going to do great things with your life, I just know it.”

She smiled and braided his own lengthy hair before seeming to disappear. He looked over the edge, sighing heavily as he realized that if he leapt now, she might see and he’d be hypocrite. Resigned to the day’s fate, he headed back down and headed to a home vacant of any love from his abusive father or dangerous, violent brother, hiding in his room tightly and rocking to himself to sleep as the screams ricocheted off the walls and his door was pounded on so fiercely he worried it would break open.

When the morning light came through his small bedroom window, Alexander was relieved that this day would be the day. He climbed onto his desk, surveying his spotlessly cleaned and personally organized room before crawling into the fenced in backyard via his alternate exit. Once he was on his back, he eased the glass shut and climbed the tall fence, running to his college and powering through a day of classes like the academic he always took great pride in being.

 Despite his love for where he’d gone, he was soon at his building of choice and pausing briefly to catch his breath at the top. He’d just slid his shoes off when he saw another girl, one much smaller than the one with braided hair the before, and he nearly went back down with the feelings of frustration and pain racing through his head upon realizing he’d not be able to go through with his plight yet again.

“Hey!” He yelled immediately and with no hesitation when she hiked a leg up over the railing. “Don’t do it, please!”

She turned around, and he realized she looked an astonishing amount like the girl from the day before despite her very different style. This very young woman had on a white tank top with a black-lettered quote on it and denim blue jeans,, and though her fluffy and beautiful light, curly brown hair was secured in a cheerful yellow band, her expression was heavily stained with tears.

“I’d tell you my woes, but you’ve probably heard it all before,” she sniffled, and he felt his body move to stand with her before he consciously decided to.

“So what if I have?” He countered, not unkindly. “That doesn’t mean they don’t matter.”

He was pretty sure she almost half smiled before she let out a sigh, looking over the city and hugging herself tightly. “I don’t fit in with anyone here or anywhere else. My family is wealthy and beautiful, none more beautiful than my older sisters. I’m always left behind, always forgotten, and I’m fresh out of high school with no idea what I want to do during my limited time on Earth. People come into my life and then they steal something- my heart, my money, my experience- and I’m left a husk of a person. I don’t matter except to give until I’m dead.”

“For God’s sake, please!” Alexander exclaimed, grabbing her shoulders briefly and looking into her wet, red-rimmed brown eyes. “Are you serious? I just can’t believe that for some reason, you get here before me, but now we’re bound together no matter what either of us do. If people walk over you, it’s time to rise up and take an honest stand for yourself, not take your life for fuckheads who hardly matter. If your family is worth your time, you’re loved by everyone back home and by whatever sincere friends you have made. I’m sure there’s a nice dinner waiting for you on the table right now, you know?”

A fresh tear slipped down her face, but she cracked that half smile he’d been hoping to catch. “I’m hungry.”

The two embraced briefly, her rightmost hand freeing her curly hair from the ironically colored band before she slipped it onto her wrist and gave him a sad smile before she seemed to disappear. He decided against going home, opting instead to sleep in the city park in a tree branch that practically had the shape of his body smoothed into it from all the times before. He found himself staying at college longer than usual to be with his friends, and when he got to the roof, he found himself relieved to find another hesitant potential jumper so he could talk them down.

Day after day, Alexander would go to the roof, meeting someone knew and listening before persuading them to turn away. He grew more and more weighted by his problems at home simultaneously, and as he struggled to not be murdered or arrested, he found himself longing for someone to do the same reach out for him as he’d done to the people whose lives he’d saved without ever learning their names. His pain grew and grew, and eventually when he came to the roof, he was all but determined to simply jump with whoever was up top before he saw her, a girl with long black hair and a light blue cardigan, standing completely on the unsafe side of the railing, something nobody who wanted to hesitate would dare do.

“H-hey-!” He called as he’d done time and time again, but the rest of his mantra died in his throat as she refused to even turn.

“I just want to stop the scars that grow every time that I go home,” she said in a voice nearly a whisper. “My family loves me but they have no idea; what can anyone do when I’m trapped legally by a man who makes me do things I’d never want to? Nobody can protect me from him without getting hurt, and every time I’ve tried to leave or defend myself, it only grows worse. That’s why I came up here instead…Nobody can get me if I get myself first.”

This girl, a beautiful woman who didn’t appear much older than he, was poised in the face of her own demise. Her pain echoed his own, and despite all he’d done for others so different than himself, he’d never deterred himself from leaping at the first honest chance he had. As her fingers began to slip away from the railing, he found he’d for once bitten off more than he could chew, and he even still he couldn’t bear to see her fall away with a pitiful expression he could see as clearly as he’d seen in his own mirror.

Alex stood with his arms around her seemingly in an instant, feeling intimately as her breath hitched in her throat and her racing heart thumped wildly through her shirt. “Hey, don’t do it, please.”

What more could he do? The nineteen year old help this position until her posture relaxed, and for a moment he dreaded she’d simply dive down rather than jump. Instead she sat back onto the railing, turning to him and stepping down in mind to his close location. When she finally looked up, her brown eyes were plagued with sorrow as she offered a small smile.

“I guess today is just not my day,” she whispered, shrugging off her pastel cardigan and draping over his still trembling frame before disappearing down the staircase.

That night, he had to run from his drunken abusers to avoid being slaughtered by a cast iron skillet and hide from the cops when a concerned neighbor called them. Despite his home being empty, he decided to sleep on the rooftop he intended to depart life from, his body brought warmth by a quilt he bought downtown before coming up and his belly full with all the food he’d bought to indulge himself for one last meal. When the morning came, nobody had come yet to contemplate the end, so he resolved as he tied back his newly braided in the second girl’s bright yellow ponytail holder that today was the day. As he went to the familiar railing, he pulled the last girl’s light blue cardigan on before climbing on top of the barrier.

_I’m going to jump now and finally be free._

The wind against his face came and went in a split second, His arms were held back tightly as the elbows, and he found himself nearly hauled back over the guard rails before feeling a pair of arms wrapping around him from the chest to secure him. As he stared down at the bustling, unaware city, he realized there were at least three pairs of hands on him, and they were the only thing between he and the death he’d be longing for sorely.

“Hey,” a familiar voice murmured in his left ear.

Another familiar voice agreed just as softly, “Don’t do it.”

The last voice, the same one from the day before, agreed from behind his head. “Please.”

“I have nothing to go back to,” he said dryly, his voice cracking with the effort to not break down in front of three women who’d he saved from this very fate. “Let me go. Save someone more worthy of the effort.”

“You saved our lives!” The second voice exclaimed, and the next thing he knew, he was on his feet and surrounded by them like a protective barrier between he and himself.

“You never got our names,” the first voice, which belonged to the girl with hair braided on top of her head elegantly now in buns, noted as she took his shaking hands. “My name is Angelica Schuyler.”

“I’m Peggy Schuyler!” The second voice, which belonged to the girl with her fluffy hair in another brightly colored ponytail holder and a warm smile, chirped.

“My name is Elizabeth Schuyler,” the last voice, which belonged to the girl oh so much like himself, said with a small smile. “Please, call me Eliza.”

He looked at all three of stunning sisters, the ones who he couldn’t imagine lifeless on the ground, and it was all he could do not to dissolve as he said. “Alexander Hamilton.”

Then he dissolve, wracked with sobs and desperate hugs for all of them, and they hugged him and reassured him as they escorted him to the world waking up below. Though it took time, he was soon living in their expansive estate with his own room while his biological family finally got arrested and squared away by the law, and the four of them got along and had more adventures than he could imagine he’d have. None of them ever talked about the days they each almost took their lives, but they didn’t have it. They were all each other’s reason to stay alive and rescue each day from that fateful on.

As a matter of fact, Alexander could now resolve with certainty after a little time and a lot of love he was finally using his days to be happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still can't figure out how to write endings for anything. I'm so sorry for that. Please leave a kudos/comment/subscription/bookmark if it so implores you for more stories! PROMPTS ARE STILL VERY OPEN!


	10. A Fit of Passion [Thomgelica]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being at the top of the food chain is not for the weak of heart. Angelica Schuyler is an apex predator in her own right, and yet every survivor has a point of weakness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one shot is requested by the lovely guest reviewer, 'WERK WERK!!!!!!' Thank you so much for asking for this, as I had a lot of fun making it and I love this ship with a passion! ♥
> 
> TW: Graphic depiction of an anxiety attack and self hatred.

Angelica found herself to be absent the day of October 3rd. She was in school physically, of course; she sang beautifully in the most elite choir in their entire state, she did her school work and handed in assignments, she even chuckled along with her beloved sisters and their mutual friends during lunch time. Despite all of these activities she participated in, she found her mind to be in a distant place, one much more sinister and plagued with so much pain that she kept in at arm’s length while simultaneously fighting to keep her head above the dark waters of her mind. To her loved ones, she seemed a bit more quiet than usual and were told she was simply considering a future project for one of her clubs that she was the president of, but the reality of the situation grew heavier with each passing hour.

Getting accepting in one of the top three schools in the nation was no small feat; she rationally understood that. Internally, she was struggling with how she’d keep her GPA well above the 4.0 mark to ensure her options were as option as her forms said they were. If she lost her admittance and didn’t hit the ground running with college next year, she had no idea how she’d manage to keep up. She wanted to do so much with her life, and every single person who knew her name expected just as much. Her father had made it very clear he would not pay the tuition for anything less than Ivy League and that her younger siblings were going to made to suffer if she fell short as a ‘deadbeat’ or ‘average’, so she continued to do her usual above average performance despite all the panic pooling like rocks at the bottom of her stomach.

She told herself it was her fault she felt this way and that she deserved to wish death or misfortune upon her life. She was the one who got a ‘B’ on that midterm and still had no idea what she could do to make up for it. She was the one who could’ve and should’ve studied a little longer, not let her beloved Eliza and Peggy convince her to take a break and spend a selfish night on the town with them and friends. She could’ve stuck to what she knew and deviated only when she was safely on top, and yet she’d failed and now had fears that climbed over her head rapidly that this would cost her the valedictorian spot she’d fought so hard for.

“Miss Angelica?” One of the elementary aged students asked as she sat in the after school study session for youngsters that she helped run. “My mama said you were going to leave next year and go to cool-egg.”

“College,” she correctly with a patient, albeit frayed, smile.

“She said you were so smart, you were gonna go to Harvard!”

“Well, I’ve actually only heard back from Brown so far,” she replied with a strained smile. “I’ll still be getting it all paid for. Now, how about we get started on this book?”

“Brown?” The child repeated as he pulled out his reading. “That doesn’t sound as cool as Harvard.”

It wasn’t as cool as Harvard. As a matter of fact, one might argue that was overall worse, and that it made no sense for her to perform so poorly that she wouldn’t be admitted at the very top. If a seven year old thought it, her father would say the same and take it out on her, and she’d suffer more than she figured she could ever inflict upon herself.

She didn’t really feel herself excusing herself and passing the student off to another one of the workers. As she walked toward the bathrooms, she hardly registered her legs moving underneath her or the way her breath hitched with every other rapid step. The more she travelled the further the stalls felt, and her biting her tongue to avoid crying out was enough to send her fumbling into the nearest vacant classroom. As she pushed her way past the desks and to the back of the room, she let out a harsh sob that felt so disconnected from herself that she rammed her head against the wall just to feel something, to snap her back into reality. The force of the blunt trauma had her sinking down into a small ball, harsh cries clawing out of her throat and sending tears pouring down her face, into her mouth, peppering her shirt and knees with the salty liquid.

_You’re alone, you pathetic freak. You’re alone and you deserve it you deserve it you deserve it you fucking freak, you weak little bitch fucking at school. What are you, five? Weak stupid bitch weak stupid bitch you’ll never be good enough never never never you’re too stupid you fucking idiot why the fuck are you crying pathetic pathetic PATHETIC-_

The lights were off and yet it felt too bright. She grabbed her hair from the ponytail she’d forced it into before, yanking and muffling her sobs that bordered on shrieking. She would never be good enough, no matter how hard she tried, so why did she try? She would be better off disappearing, far away from a father whose compassion died with her mother and bringing peace upon a household of innocent little siblings.

“Hello?”

Someone had entered her sphere of despair. She immediately bit down into the fabric of her shirt, desperately trying to stop the hysteria long enough to get the foreign voice’s host to exit the classroom.

_Look at you, you pathetic crybaby bitch. The teacher will think you’re insane have you lost your damn mind? Wow stop crying stop crying damnit you pathetic little fuck can you shut up for three seconds you fucking freak you stupid, stupid bitch._

A small sob erupted as the shadowy figure stepped closer; she was caught in all of her lost glory, her walls crumbling as she laid in the rubble of a life she tried so desperately to build for herself and for those she loved. Before she could try to stand and make up an excuse about why she was hysterically weeping into herself in a random classroom, the figure knelt down in front of her and pulled her hands away from her mouth. As they were removed, she realized she’d bitten into so hard and excessively they’d begun to bleed around her cuticles and nail beds.

“Angelica?” The voice inquired, and with a sinking feeling she realized she knew exactly who this male was.

“Jefferson,” she whispered, voice hoarse from the sobbing that she couldn’t seem to cease despite all her best efforts. “If you’re here to kick me while I’m down, go ahead. I’ve got nothing else to fucking lose.”

“Jesus, darlin’, what kind of man do you take me for?” He mused, sitting back onto his posterior entirely and keeping her hands in his own despite her subconscious attempts to return knowing on them. “Hey, hey. I don’t know what’s going on, but you gotta calm down.”

_Calm down calm down fucking calm down you’re making a scene you’ll never be respected in the Debate Team now you’re a sorry excuse of a president what fucking fool put you in charge he’s an adult you’re a sniffling child fucking calm down CALM DOWN damnit!_

“Angie…” The Virginian softly said, his voice smooth as silk in contrast to his usual sassy remarks and flirtatious and condescending tone. “Angie, please. Can you tell me five things you can feel?”

_Fucking five things you- wait, what?_

“W-what?” She whispered aloud, her gaze still unable to meet his.

A light was suddenly shining down, one that showed the man before her more clearly. His hair, a luscious and usually free Afro, was now pulled into a braid that laid across his head from ear to ear while the rest was in a puffy bun. His brown eyes were wide and concerned, two things she’d never seen front her confident classmate and main competition for the valedictorian spot, and that alone was nearly enough to send her back into her usual confidence demeanor.

“Can you tell me five things you can feel?” He repeated quietly requested, and she realized his large, cool hands were on either side of her face as her tears freely dripped down like rainfall.

She sniffled involuntarily and became aware of how close they were, how small she must look, and how he seemed too genuine to pass up in such a vulnerable position. “I…I feel…I feel the carpet underneath me, a-and your hands. I can feel my clothes…The storage unit on my back…A-and my hair sticking to my face.”

“Very good, doll,” he praised, and the fear that he was only acting compassionate to destroy her later overcame her like a plastic sack underneath water.“Now, how about four things you can see?”

“I…” She scooted back instinctually, not relinquishing his touch from her despite trying to sit up a little straighter to salvage some dignity subconsciously. “I-I see…I see a…a lamp on.  I see…I see the light in from under the door. I see m-my hands…I…I!”

“One more, darlin,” he prompted so gently, she nearly melted out of gratitude despite herself.

“…I see…I was only looking at your hair before?” She voiced hesitantly, his patient nod encouraging her to continue. “B-but…but now I see your eyes. They’re big, and brown but hazel in the direct light. They’re v-very nice.”

“Why thank you, sugarplum,” he responded with a rare non-malicious chuckle. “Now I’m gonna need three things you can hear.”

“Your voice,” she murmured hoarsely, all the fatigue and strain she’d brought on herself finally catching up while he cracked a smirk at her smart comment. “M…my voice. People going by the door outside.”

“Excellent,” he soothed as he used his thumbs to brush her curls free from her messy face. “Can you tell me two things you can taste?”

Lunch still lingered on her taste buds despite it being the afternoon, and by the way he kept his face in close proximity, she feared this was a poorly done sexual advance when she was at her most fragile. She immediately shoved him back, her hands shaking as she skittered away from his grasp. He went back with a small grunt and, much to her relief and shock, didn’t make a cruel comment about how primal she was acting or even try to get back up.

“Well, sugar?” He simply said.

“…Chicken,” she mumbled, a feeling of bashfulness settling when she realized her fears had been misguided. “And flavored chips.”

“Sounds delicious, pumpkin. All there is left to tell me once thing you can smell.”

She tried to take a whiff of the air, and yet her nose seemed to be running to get anything that wasn’t strong. Face flush with more shame (if it were possible at this point), she got to her feet and stumbled over desks until she got to the box of Kleenex on the teacher’s desk. Thomas followed a respectful distance, his eyes never seeming to leave as she cleaned up somewhat and cleared her airway.

“I don’t smell anything,” she muttered disappointedly.

Instead of speaking, the fellow senior wrapped his arms around her, encasing her with warmth and a perfume that smelled flowery and lavender. “How about now?”

“Y-your cologne,” she admitted in a shaky squeak.

“You’ve got it, honey.” He pulled away only slightly now, his expression still soft against the background-centric harsh lamp light. “Look, I know we fight like it’s our damn jobs, but nobody deserves to be crying alone in Mister Benton’s science classroom. We can leave that for the people we don’t think twice about or some shit, don’t you think?”

“Well, Thomas, I’m surprised you care whether I live or die,” she professed with a light chuckle that crumpled when she realized she couldn’t bear to meet his gaze. “I can’t imagine what you must think about me now. I hope you know this does not change my level of intellect, nor how I have grown to enjoy our little debates. This was…this was simply a, well, a…”

“A panic attack,” he finished while stepping back, and the ghost of his touch left her longing for it once more when she still felt so small. “I get them all the time. That’s why I wear this lavender stuff; helps soothe the nerves because science and shit. Nobody ever said being on the top was easy, sweetie, but that makes us all the more badass when we crumple. I don’t expect you’ll be dropping the ball regardless, so don’t worry about it. It can be our little secret; right, angel?”

He’d nearly gotten out of the door before she went to his side, her hands and arms looping around his dominant one as though she’d done it all her life. In the hallway light, she finally noticed how his flannel shirt was flattering and his jeans were pleasantly tight, and how a blush lingered on his dark cheeks despite claiming to not be affected by this encounter.

“Oh please, Thomas,” she finally managed with a genuine smile of her own. “At least let me walk you to your car for your troubles. I have no intention of dropping our earlier argument about women’s reproductive rights, I do hope you know, and now you’re in an excellent place to speak of it.”

He smiled once more and leaned closer so their sides touched more intimately. “I wouldn’t dream of it, baby.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let it be known that Angelica and Thomas do begin dating shortly after this and graduate with nearly identical GPAs with Angelica winning valedictorian by one letter grade difference in the class she got the 'B' on the paper for.


	11. By Herself [Peggy-centric]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peggy in the bathroom by herself because Halloween parties are over-rated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> VERY SERIOUS TRIGGER WARNING FOR ATTEMPTED RAPE AND DEPICTION OF GRAPHIC ANXIETY ATTACK! I love the musical Be More Chill and Michael in the Bathroom just as much as anyone else, but PLEASE DO NOT PUT YOURSELF AT RISK! This chapter is very, very mature, and covers some heavy topics concerning mental illness and as I said, an attempted rape. Please be safe. 
> 
> This was requested by the lovely Arya_Chan, my lovely small bean! Thank you for such an awesome idea, I hope I did it justice!

“Go to the Halloween party, they said,” the youngest Schuyler sister grumbled to herself as she tried desperately to look attractive enough for someone to look at, to notice even for a moment. “It will be _fun_ , they said.”

            All around her the night was alive. People were drinking and making out, crawling over one another and grinding against the themed music. The scent of smoke and weed filled the air so heavily she could gag, and where were the people she’d come with? Well, she knew for a fact one was in a bedroom having some exhilarating sex with her longtime boyfriend, one Thomas Jefferson, and she was genuinely happy they were so perfect and in love. After all, they were far more intellectual than the usual ‘most popular boy and girl’ pair, and their friendly debates and passionate outlook on life kept them both more and more alive the deeper they fell for each other. The other was with her boyfriend and their friend group, the one so tight knit and full of love that was as unintentionally isolated as it was welcoming. No matter how hard she’d tried, the junior just couldn’t worm her way into their pact, and had given up trying the week of this much hyped event.

So where was she instead? Hanging by the snack table, trying her best to be important. She knew upfront she was only let in because of beloved siblings and that she didn’t know anyone outside of their first names or classes/clubs, but she’d still somehow persuaded herself it was better than spending another night watching movie with her younger siblings and parents. Of course she loved her family more than anything, but when it was all the had to offer when she was supposed to remarkable enough to skip a grade to be with her Eliza, it just got depressing.

“Hello there,” a smooth voice drawled, and she was surprised to see a senior, the infamous James Reynolds, right in front of her. “What’s a pretty little thing like you doing in a crowded fuck house like this? It sure ain’t becoming of someone so pretty.”

“Are you implying that only ugly girls come here?” She demanded, a light ignited in her at the thought of the known sleaze who’d cheated his way into the lowest ranking of the class just so he could graduate. “And for the record, this is hardly a ‘fuck house’. James Monroe only invites the best of the best to his _mansion,_ which is a lot more to his name that you.”

“Oh sure, that’s what that cock sucker wants you to think,” he drawled and leaned closer despite her attempts to step away from him. “Really he’s no different than me; the difference is that he’s a pretty boy who the teachers have no problem letting into the top ten percentile, and I’m just not white or charming enough to get in with a bunch of crusty old hags and closeted pedophiles. Surely someone as supposedly smart as yourself can understand that.”

His breath reeked of old booze and had no traces of mint or toothpaste. She used her small frame to push his slender figure, which was now all but pinning her to the snack table by position, and stepped to the side with intentions to lose him in the chaos of the party. Much to her horror and disgusted shock, he simply grabbed her strands harshly and stuck a wad, which was now so eloquently covered in ranch, into his disgusting mouth.

“You look so much like that bitch I used to date…” He drawled, his grip tightening on her mane as he started forcibly grabbing her closer. “How about I’ll show your pretty little virgin ass what it means to have hate sex? I could do everything I want to you, and nobody would bat an eyelid…”

“Let go!” She screamed, twisting and yanking despite the throbbing it brought to her already tender head as he began to yank her unforgivably up the first staircase. “LET GO! I’ll call the police, I swear-!”

Nobody seemed to hear her over the bass that shook the walls and noise that her cries blended into. She was hauled all the way up three flights of stairs, her attempts useless to the point she even tried going ragdoll; he rewarded her effort with a hard slap to the face that made her tear up and blood form in her mouth. Through the haze of pain and fear that made her senses sharp, she saw someone step out of the door he’d just flung open.

“Reynolds?!” She heard a voice snap, and at once his grip was gone and very clearly enraged Maria Lewis was chasing her piece of shit ex down the hallway wielding two sharply pointed heels. “YOU SON OF A BITCH!”

“Are you okay?” A new voice asked as the arms of its owner helped the young junior up, but seeing another tall, lean man was enough to send her skittering back despite how he immediately backed up with a sincerely apologetic expression on his face. “I’m sorry, I swear that man- if you can even call him that- will never look at you again. I’ll be hauling his ass to the police station once my lady gets done beating the shit out of him.”

“Th-thank you both,” she stammered weakly, and she wondered if he could hear over the party that persisted on in the lower floors that still vibrated the walls and floor. “I…I have to go.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with us? Maria will drive separately, and you could get your witness testimony in…” He extended a kind hand in her direction as he spoke, and had she not been near what would’ve undoubtedly been a violent rape, she knew she’d normally take it rather than shrink away. “I promise we’ll take care of you. Nothing bad is going to happen anymore tonight; just friendship and comfort. I promise, Patty.”

Patty. This kind stranger didn’t even know her name, but she’d be willing to bet money he’d know her sisters. She felt her body tremble even more violently as she shook her head, her feet feeling like lead and her heart hammering painfully as she raced to the sixth, top floor of the expansive house. The pictures of family and joy across the hallway walls blurred as she choked back terrible, pained sobs, her mind still reeling as she finally found a room with an open door and fleeing inside without another thought. As she locked it shakily and finally sank to the cool flooring, she realized she’d found herself in a very large bathroom, and that there was another door that connected to another room at the other end. Though she was still catching her breath, she scrambled over and forced it shut with a sharp yank before locking it frantically. Despite it not being too much, the first wave of relief of the evening came when she realized nobody was on the other side, at least not yet, and that she could finally be alone.

“I am hanging in the bathroom, at the biggest party of the fall…” She whispered as she stared at the barrier between her and an empty bedroom. “I could stay right here, or disappear…And Hell, nobody’d even notice at all.”

The music switched to a new song, one that was at a groovy, catchy tempo that made the crowd far below cheer in approval. She pressed her back to the door and brought her knees to her chest, her mind racing as she tried desperately to avoid crying over someone as creepy, abusive and stupid as James Reynolds. Maria and the stranger had no doubt saved her by the miracle of coincidence, and yet she still couldn’t bring herself to go back despite finally catching her breath. Either the couple would turn him in like the man said or they’d go on about their night, and she imagined she’d still be hiding away until one of her siblings finally announced they were ready to leave (and given how late these events went, she wouldn’t be surprised if she wound up spending the night).

“Hello??” Someone was banging on the front door, scaring her into curling tighter on herself out of pure instinct and fear. “Some of us have to pee!”

There were multiple bathrooms in such a huge estate, and she’d just gotten here with no intent to leave, so she simply called out, “I…I’m having my period!”

“…Take your time, honey,” the voice replied more kindly.

 _Great. I’m a weirdo in the bathroom cause my sisters kind of left me alone,_ she mused self depreciatingly as she continued to huddle as small as was physically able. _And yet I’d rather fake pee than stand awkwardly and pretend that I am fine on my own._

When she was in their home, she was never the awkward, odd one out loser that she was socially. She was the older but closest in age sister to their brothers and sisters, or the last born Irish triplet to the two people she’d idolized and followed trustingly since she was very small. If either of them knew what she’d just been through, she had no doubt in her mind that there would likely be a homicide and a lot of bail money paid to get them both out of jail for both murdering someone and expertly hiding the body. The thought of her siblings protecting her was enough to get her to summon her cell phone, but she almost immediately set it on the sink counter instead; they were having too much for her to cloud their evening with such misery. Besides, she figured she was asking for it by being a pretty wallflower, and that she looked like a slut just waiting for attention despite her baggy, childlike costume and makeup that was meant to make her look even younger than she was.

 _Everything feels find, when I’m the third to their pair…_ She stood up shakily and went to the mirror, inspecting her far from perfect frame that was poorly concealed by now wrinkled and grime stained clothes. _Though the fault is mine, there’s no reason for anybody to care. I’m just…Peggy in the bathroom. Peggy in the bathroom at a party._

When her sisters implored her to come to this event, they’d decided to come as the Powerpuff Girls, as they themselves were practically triplets and were all self-proclaimed badasses, but her beloved elder siblings had gone much shorter in their snug dresses and had thigh highs and more adorable yet attractive accessories than her, who’d bought the Buttercup dress online for authenticity and worn white leggings, flats instead of heels, and even straightened her hair before realizing she’d looked more childish than attractive. Her only redeeming piece were the dark green fingerless gloves she’d found in the clearance section of one of her more obscure online shopping sites, and even they had a reason to be called out of date. Peggy yanked off the gloves angrily now, throwing the leggings and bag on top of them by the sink before shimmying back into her shorts with another weak cry erupting from within her. Next she tried straightening out her green dress insecurely before sighing and pulling it over her head, leaving her standing a lime green tank top and the short black shorts as she tossed the baggy fabric over the curtain rod.

“I don’t even know how long it’s been,” she murmured, hardly able to think with the trembling foundation all around her. “How long has ‘and Peggy’ been in the bathroom, Peggy been in the bathroom at a party?

Another knock- or maybe it was just a bang from somewhere on the floor, sounded. It was sharp enough to make her jump and send a surge of anger and resentment outward, leaving her to yell, “NO, YOU CAN’T COME IN!”

She resolved she’d just wait it all out here after all, no matter how long it took to leave. After all, the bathtub looked big enough to sleep in, and she still had her small backpack/purse to use as a cushion if the storage closet by the front end of the tub didn’t have any spare linens or pillows inside. (And even if there was a bedroom literary right there, she wasn’t going to risk pissing anyone else off by sleeping there or being found by another man looking for someone ‘easy’.) The sixteen year old sat on the edge of the bathtub and began picking at the grout forming, grief from the trauma continuing the bubble over the more she fought tears and dug her nails into the grime to distract herself.

_That’s right, Maria’s boyfriend. I’m just Peggy, who you don’t know, Peggy flying solo, Peggy in the BATHROOM by herself. All by herself…_

Her sisters were having the time of their lives if they hadn’t even checked in on her. She felt progressively filthier from being dragged, yanked and touched by the lowlife until she finally switched on the shower and seized the fresh towels from their storage area.

 _I’m hiding here because he’s out there, unable to move on from some history…_ She reminisced bitterly as she scrubbed at her skin and rubbed her ranch and salvia stained hair until she worried she’d break it. _Memories get replaced and I made myself erased by fighting for my dignity._

As she switched off the shower, she heard a drunk girl singing along very loudly to Whitney. The image of someone like that made her chuckle before it faded like a light that he’d been blasted with a hose; who was she to judge for someone making a lot of laughable mistakes? At least the poor lady was having fun while she was ‘Patty’ in the bathroom, just Peggy in the bathroom at a party regretting that she hadn’t had at least a beer. Her eyes finally began to leak as she stepped onto the bath mat and toweled off quickly, all but diving back into her clothes just in case someone got in somehow and shoving the towel in the hamper.

“Look, calm down,” she told herself weakly despite not believing a word of her own reassurance. “Everything is going to be alright. You can take as long as you need until your face is dry, and if worse comes to worse, you can just blame it on weed or something in your eyes. Why wouldn’t they believed you? You’re just Peggy, who they don’t know, ‘Patty’ flying solo, PEGGY in a _bathroom_ by herself!”

She used a smaller, stained towel to wipe away almost all of the water from bathing before sitting in the bathtub with her yellow headphones pulled over her drying curls. She’d fallen asleep listening to her familiar showtunes before she was jolted awake by the sound of banging outside, making her heartrate skyrocket.

_Knock, knock, knock, knock._

People would start to complain if she stayed there and somehow every other facility was full. She barely had time to sit up before it came again, louder and harsher this time.

_Knock, knock, knock, knock!_

“Calm down!” She called resentfully. “I’ll be out soon-“

_KNOCK, knock, KNOCK, knock!_

It really sucked that was she was in a mansion full of people all alone.

_Knock, knock, KNOCK! KNOCK!_

This was a teenage battlezone against herself. Her head was exploding with all the so, so loud sounds, her vision growing hazy as she somehow stumbled over the tub and onto the floor in a shaking mess.

_CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!_

Her biggest mistake was showing up. She tried rolling onto her knees to rise up to her feet, but all the noise made her bury her face partially into her lap and choke down a scream of pain mixed with terror.

_BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!_

It felt like her mind was disconnected from her body as she bit down on her lip, splashing cold water from the sink that was soothing against the harsh rubbing and burning water earlier.

_SPLASH! SPLASH ! Splash, spash…_

Feeling more confident about skittering past whoever was on the other side, Peggy went to open up the other door until she realized with a start that didn’t hear knocking anymore. Once again she felt like a ghost of her own body as she walked back to the sink, twitching on the water and rubbing the remnants of sleep and dried makeup residue soothingly. As she bent over with her figure still trembling like a leaf, she couldn’t help but yearn to be home with those she loved, to feel like she belonged somewhere other than the shadows and harsh pangs of irrelevancy. When the water stream ended this time, she was forced to look at her splotchy, red face, her tangled and wild hair, and the marks and bruises from being handled and punished so roughly, and there was denying where she was and what had happened.

Any more self-deprecation was cut off by her sobs erupting from her small frame. She allowed herself to sink to the floor, her cries unashamed and uncensored in rage, misery, fear and overall loathing for who’d done such unspeakable things to her. As she finally calmed down and the much needed waves of release and endorphins washed over her, she realized that the music had been turned down considerably and that the songs were much calmer and carefree in nature; the event was finally winding down as people passed out, went home or just fell asleep.

“I’m at a party,” she reminded herself with a weak laugh of disbelief. “Is there a sadder site than…? Mmm, mmhhmm-mm…at a party? This is a heinous night.”

She wiped her tears gently as she spoke, standing up and pulling her curls over to be quickly untangled with the hairbrush in the top drawer before tying them up into a cute, thick bun on her head. In a brief moment of clarity, she thought to tidy up where she’d been dwelling for an indescribable amount of time while silently thanking whoever furnished and used this- probably the Monroe parents- for inadvertently letting her take care of herself.

“God, I wish I’d stayed at home, with family and warm…” She whispered to herself, casting a glance to the clearly broken up girl in the mirror. “Or…or maybe offed myself instead, like I was never born.”

The pain, insecurity and humor in all of it hit her at once, verbalized as she put folded her costume and pulled her shoes off into her back. “Doesn’t even know? I’m just Peggy, whose a loner, so she must be a stoner! Drives a PT Cruiser, GOD she’s such a loser!! Peggy flying solo, who you all think that you know, Peggy in the bathroom by herself!”

She zipped her bag, endorphins making her feel a little delusional and giddy. The music really was fun and easy to dance or clap to, which she did despite the trauma finally settling inside her heart for the evening.

“All by herself!” She sang along softly, giggling at her own antics lightly and rubbing her eyes. “All by herseeeee-eee-eeeeeeeelf!”

The sixteen year old gently undid the lock to the front door and stepped into the still vacant bedroom, locking it from the new side and bolting herself in the bedroom from its entrance. The bed was soft and invitingly warm as she crawled in, at last ditching her bra and sorrow as she stared up into the comforting darkness.

“All you all know about me is my last name…” She murmured as sleep wrapped around her soothingly. “Awesome party, I’m so glad I came.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone who may be confused, I become loopy and a little silly after a big panic attack to make myself feel better before sleeping, which is what Peggy did here. Also, James R. was canonically (though it wasn't outright written in this one shot) convicted on multiple domestic abuse and attempted rapes, and Angelica and Eliza found their sister in the morning and helping her get through it with lots of love, therapy and delicious food. ♥


	12. The Dancing Song [Thomgelica, Dancing Girls Fairytale AU]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> True happiness is up to the eyes of the beholder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my loves! This one shot was a request spawned by Lele426, whose lovely review made me smile uncontrollably because they are the sweetest person! ♥ I absolutely LOVED writing this request, as it was one of the most unique concepts I've ever read and never been able to craft until now. I do warn you and everyone else that this is seriously twisted/dark/angsty, as I was told in the request it would okay to make it so, and though I'd usually go for fluff instead, I had a lot of fun doing it this way instead. I hope this is everything you were hoping for and more, and without any further ado, please enjoy! ♥

If you were to ask any man, the role of a woman was remarkably easy; all she had to do was be wed before she was out of the prime age of bearing children and she’d be set exactly what she’d been reared to do all her life. Even if it were somewhat uncommon, even older women could wed and be well loved and respected, and a very rare few never bonded within a union while still living prosperous lives filled with joy. Marriage grew younger and younger the classier a family was, of course; it was a massive achievement to send a girl off before she were eighteen, and such was the case with the eldest Schuyler child. Not once in the chaos of exchanging letters and arrangement with the groom’s family did a soul ask the woman what she thought despite giving the young lord complete control over who’d he choose and where they’d rule together, but they at least let her plan the wedding of her dreams and gave her things he sent her in the months leading up to her journey.

Angelica supposed she’d say she was happy, or at the very least content with the way her life was turning out. The Schuyler family ruled expansive estate with honor, pride and fairness that made their people prosperous and devout, and she was sure she’d be wed into another prosperous family somewhere within their state until the suitors lunged for her the second she became fifteen. Most of them were older men, ones that she’d very clearly refused and raised fits over the concept of being in the same bed with, but George King was different. He was youthful with bright blonde hair and stunning eyes, ones she’d been told countless times that not even the elaborate paintings did justice to, and a bit deranged but overall quite entertaining sense of humor. He was a far better option than a social downgrade or her other potential husbands, and the second she realized her mother’s approval, she essentially leapt into his extended hand.

Now that she was on the ship, all of her lovely things and entire life surrounding her spacious cabin like it ought to be, she felt empty. At first she’d convinced herself it was she missed her family and her people, but the more she’d thought on it, the more she realized she had no interest in marrying the King. He would be a proper gentleman and a man to bring her much promised wealth, joy and family to balance out the limited visits with those she’d grown up with, but he was still not someone she supposed she yet _loved_. Considering how her parents were also an arranged marriage, she supposed she had no reason to believe she’d be unhappy, but she’d be the potential of false ‘I love yous’ in the haunted eyes of countless cousins and even more couples who bore fussy, spoiled or neglected offspring who crumpled under the weight of being royalty when it was thrust upon them. Good people became menaces, dangerous criminals and villains for less, and despite all these inhibitions that finally bubbled to the surface upon getting away from her controlling mother and excitable staff, she raced ever steadily toward a new land with new subjects who she’d be bound to from the moment she’d say ‘I do’.

Angelica Schuyler essentially _didn’t_ , but there was no other choice now; there never really was, anyway.

Her racing thoughts finally drove her to sit up in her bed and grab her favorite robe in order to go get some fresh air. Though most princesses would never dress like ‘commoners’, she still slipped on the pale yellow shorts her beloved Peggy gifted her before she departed underneath her pastel pink nightgown just in case the wind was prominent on the deck and clipped the baby blue hairpin her beloved Eliza handmade into her ponytail bound curls. As she creaked open her cabin door, she half expected a servant to ask what she needed or a maid to usher her back to bed, but much to her pleasure nobody seemed to awake to mind.

“ _Sorrow she knew, with misery she danced, why won’t she come out and let me enchant?”_

A hauntingly beautiful voice mixed in with the night air as she opened the door to step out on the deck. Instead of the harsh night wind that send her clothes whipping around her, she found herself feeling warm and the wood to be pleasantly well lit to guide her into the darkness. Bewildered, she took a tentative step further and strained to hear that unfamiliar voice before it washed over her like a warm fire enveloping formerly chilled skin in immediate realize.

 _“Her eyes are brown, flecked with marigold, within a trembling body lies an aching soul~”_ The voice sang, seeming to beckon her to continue onto the deck despite the logic of the situation nagging in the back of her mind.

“Who’s there?” She whispered huskily, voice weighed down with fatigue and curiosity, but she was greeted with a rush of energy as the mysterious and unseen singer replied.

 _“Hush, doll, hush, I know your pain,”_ the voice soothed more clearly. _“Your deepest desires are the beginnings of my gain.”_

“Where are you?” She demanded more boldly, looking around and watching in astonishment as the figures of her family began to decorate the now fully lit and well-made deck area that sparkled as though it were brand new.

_“These are those for which you pray, their faces plastered mentally every day. See how they frolic, they dance and play; won’t you join them, sugar, don’t listen to dismay~”_

She felt as light as air as she walked to her sisters, curtsying formally and giggling when they looped their arms around her to spin around her in circles while she spun the opposite way with her gown in hand. When they moved to do the same to their younger siblings, she found herself no longer wearing her night clothes, but instead a beautiful dress speckled with gold and dyed a gorgeous pink that fit her in all the places to make her feel sexy and stunning. For what felt like only minutes she danced around the outdoor ballroom, kissing her family’s cheeks and laughing with her Irish triplets as the voice sweetly orchestrated his lovely song.

 _“The night is young, the sun can’t shine like your face,”_ the singer crooned so endearingly she giggled like a girl. _“Won’t you come dance with me? It’s your proper place.”_

Finally, she saw who was calling such gracious and gorgeous words. It was a man, far more scantily dressed than she’d ever seen anyone, but it only added to her warm feelings of enhancement despite how she blushed. His hair was decorated with shells and bountiful strands of golds, his eyes shining black with sparkling silver dots like the stars themselves, and his skin was a deep brown that looked like it was melted from the most delectable chocolate. He smiled to her, blowing her a kiss, before standing up and revealing his bare, muscled chest along with his only clothing being handmade, white cloth that reminded her of something a heated sailor might be clad in as he fished with his hands.

 _“Up the stairs now. Please carefully tread,”_ he beckoned, and she found a couple of golden shining steps instead of the railing would’ve been. _“It’s been too long, mon amour, for someone to be in my arms again.”_

“But what about the water? What if I fall in?” The logic had gone from nagging to a screeching warning like a harsh slap to a face, but when he opened his smooth and plump lips, it was banished away entirely by feelings of safety, trust and warmth.

 _“Come to me, darling, come near to my heart,”_ he serenaded as his hands extended out fully to take her own, which she lifted out now in a entranced-like manor. _“Touch me intimately, my sugarplum, we shall never be apart.”_

The stairs felt cold and saturated with salt water for only a second before they felt like carpet beneath her bare feet. When she looked back, her family was smiling, and the light from this magical ballroom seemed to extend out and be projected around her perfect suitor. She stepped up and over, stumbling briefly, and suddenly an entirely different picture was brought before her as her knee was harshly scraped to bring blood to the surface.

A storm was raging above and droplets of rain made seeing hard, but there was no missing the raging ocean below. The familiar voice of the captain was screaming for her, begging her to come back ‘before the heart swallowed her’, and when she looked back, she found herself barely clinging to an algae ridden railing on the side that could easily tip her into unforgiving ocean beneath. She was slipping before she registered it, and she began to scream in horror before the scene was gone and she’d somehow spun back around to her suitor again.

 _“Come with me, stay asleep~”_ He crooned, and she felt like melting better when she met his irresistible gaze again. _“Come to me, never leave~”_

Her hands were gripping something that didn’t seem to be there, so instead of question why she’d done such a silly thing in the first place, she let go.

* * *

Being a siren was a lonely business. Of course they had each other, and he loved the couple of males and plentiful females he got to be around constantly and thrive with every single day of his life. Living in the ocean meant never-ending fun and lots of mischief, and Thomas never got tired of giving up the hard life as a ship slave for endless play instead. He’d been one of the rarest humans to leap and not be eaten, tortured or both; he’d accepted the life willingly through his own magical workings, and the others had welcomed him as one of their own due to the sheer excitement and rareness of his ‘crime against humanity’.

Angelica had been the most beautiful woman he’d ever met, and initially, he’d wanted to sink his teeth into that flawless flesh of hers. The more he watched her though, she more he realized she was much too pretty to slay or make cry, so he crafted a new tune just for her that would compel her to join him forever and forever. He’d be amused, watching her put on a show of foolish delusion for her and his fellow sirens as she spun and giggling and danced around a soaking, frigid deck that would no doubt make her miserable and send her fleeing had she not been under his spell. At last he got tired of the performance he orchestrated her and called for her easily to climb over the only thing separating him and his prize, and she’d broken his charm for just a few dangerous moment. Seeing the fear in her eyes broke his heart, and when she finally leapt into the churning water, he resolved he’d never see such uncertainty again.

Now she was sitting at his side, her legs replaced by a beautiful pastel pink colored tail she’d happily picked herself and her cute expressive mouth permanently enchanted only to make sounds of joy and song. He was starving, and he was happy to begin a traditional song as she giggled bubbly beside him and laid her head on his shoulder.

By all traditional rules of a fairytale, Angelica Schuyler and Thomas Jefferson lived happily ever after, forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please remember to leave a kudos/bookmark/subscribe/write a review if it so compels you! REQUESTS ARE VERY MUCH OPEN AND VERY VALUED! ♥


	13. The Dancing Curse [Some Hamliza, Pt. 2 of the Dancing Sisters Fairytale AU]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> True sorrow is up to the strength and consideration of the survivor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my loyal followers and friends! ♥ As per the original idea spawned from the incredibly sweet and creative LELE426 written out in the last chapter and the incredibly generous request of THE POWER OF PEGGY!!!! post said chapter, this incredible mini-series has become a threeshot focusing on each of the Schuyler Sisters in this twisted, angsty and hopefully positively-ending threeshot! 
> 
> Thank you both so, so much for allowing me to continue exploring these characters and world build, and I hope the over two week waiting period will have proved to be well worth. Keep an eye out for the last installment of the 'Dancing Girls' threeshot, and then be prepared to await the release of more fics, both from Lele426's requests, an older request I haven't had the momentum to write for (my deepest apologies), and my own ideas!

If you were to ask any residence of the Schuyler’s kingdom what life had been like post the sudden and tragic loss of their beloved princess Angelica, they’d describe to you that of mourning, constant high strung emotion, seclusion and horror. No more true was it for the remaining children of the king and queen, all of which had been sealed up tightly within the walls of their massive mansion with only a select few coming in and even less ever venturing out. Any man, woman or child who dared disobey the extensive, mysterious deadlines would be slain on sight, so the halls and rooms previously lit with constantly activity and residents of all classes and kingdoms grew cold and hollow.

Of course, the most prominent people in the entire country still had only so much power, and after ten long months ten year old John and seven year old Phillip Jeremiah fled their home and had never been again, and only their remaining two older sisters had any clue that they were alive and safe within the home of their beloved Aunt Gertrude since the call of freedom was too strong for them to resist. In the three months preceding their sons’ outright rebellious fleeing, all face to face contact with the kingdom was halted save for the massive spike in royal guard staff members and increase in technological advances that ensured nobody would have any reason to appear before the royal family.

Quite frankly, it was past the point of being on Peggy’s last nerve, so the courtship request coming from across the sea that would set her and her beloved Eliza free had her counting the minutes until the trip.

“Do make it to the islands, my girls,” Phillip Schuyler, a once bright and opinionated man softened by sorrow, commanded to his remaining eldest daughters. “Should you catch word of what may have come of Angelica through these months from those who travel further…You know what to do.”

“Do not get your hopes, darling,” Catherine Schuyler, a once kind and simple woman hardened cruelly by sorrow, replied to her husband before looking to her eldest duo. “See to it you arrive alive at any cost. Others’ lives are expendable compared to yours.”

“What a horrendous thing to say!” Eliza exclaimed at once, but nevertheless they shared tight hugs and kisses of farewell with their drastically reduced family members before boarding the ship to see them all the way to the Caribbean Islands.

As the vessel sailed toward the stretching horizon, Peggy took special time in inhaling and exhaling the now unfamiliar, yet home-marked, scents of their home. Though it may have been her prison for thirteen, nearly fourteen months, she would miss it until her next visit despite the internal knowledge her only connections would be through letters until she was twenty one and one hundred percent free from her parents’ jurisdiction. Sentiments aside, she was no follower and not one to play complacently like her older sisters, and there was not a chance she’d let out slack enough to be yanked back under anyone’s control now that she finally had her complete freedom.

“Tell me more about this pen pal of yours, dear sister!” Eliza exclaimed once their kingdom was long behind them across the ocean. “The things you tell our parents are bland to say the least, so please indulge me in the real story.”

“Oh God, you’re still talking royal!” The seventeen year old groaned immediately while playfully covering her mouth. “I will tell you nothing until you get out of that toxic mindset!”

“It’s hardly toxic!” The eighteen year old replied through playful laughter, and at once the two commenced into childlike back-and-forth and chase that she hadn’t been able to do for so many years, not since their mother decided they were ‘too old for nursery activities’.

They were at sea for almost six complete days before they finally learned the truth about what happened to their beloved oldest sister. It had been her that woke up first, lured awake by the strange singing coming from beyond their spacious cabin walls, and she’d woken up her Betsey before adventuring out to find who was singing in the absolute black of night. Together the two teenagers held hands and huddled together against the whipping wind on the ship deck, and when Peggy caught sight of the seemingly drunk sailor preparing to leap off over the railing, she couldn’t even feel her legs underneath her as she rushed to him and pulled him back to safety with reckless abandon.

“H-huh?!” The sailor’s eyes were wide and terrified as he looked her in her eyes. “Wh…what are you doing out here at such an hour, Miss? You ought to be safe and warm in your bed by now!”

“And what in the hell were you doing about to go sailing off into the waters?!” She demanded fiercely while helping the clearly shaken gentleman to his feet. “And who was singing-?!”

Before he could reply, another song started up from somewhere in the pitch blackness of night. It sounded beautiful, she supposed, but in a haunting, disturbing way; the notes were all too wild to put a familiar set of words to, and the pitches were too wildly fluctuating for her to relax. She was just looking over to her sibling when she realized that she was dancing along to the tone in a ritualistic-appearing way, her eyes now just as far away as the young sailor’s had appeared before.

“Eliza?!” She demanded sharply as she rose to her feet. “What in the hell are you doing?! Elizabeth! Elizabeth Schuyler!”

It seemed her slightly older sister couldn’t hear her, or maybe she simply did not care, but she was swaying dangerously back and forth and all around the top of the deck now. All the seventeen year old could do was hope the (admittedly handsome) sailor would be fine as she chased after her sibling, bare feet feeling frozen against the salty, frigid boards below. Every time she got a proper grip on her, the other would dance away with elated laughter rising from her, the kind that seemed terribly inappropriate in the risqué situation.

“ELIZABETH!” Peggy screeched desperately as her beloved elder sister began to climb up and sit over the unstable, soaked railing. “ELIZABETH NO!”

She knew well what was going on now; her only remaining older sibling was being seduced by the group of sirens that were rumored to live around these parts. Regardless, she held on tightly to the last piece of family she still had and planted her feet as firmly as she could to prevent her from falling, and though it wasn’t much she deeply appreciated the young sailor she’d managed to save grabbing onto her to assist. It was only a matter of long, tense and desperate members before her Eliza’s body relaxed entirely and she was free-falling forward, and Margarita let out an anguished scream as she desperately caught one slippery wrist.

It was only for a moment, but the enchantment broke for just a moment. Elizabeth was staring up at her desperately, screaming and crying as she took in her treacherous surroundings, and then the ship lurched hard and she was swallowed up by the entirety of the water. The youngest Schuyler sister barely had time to let out a desperate shriek before the sailor leapt over the edge, two life buoys over each shoulder, after the now undoubtedly lost young woman.

 _“Look around, look around, at how lucky we are to be alive right now~”_ A singing voice that was unmistakably identical to her lost eldest sister sang out warmly. _“Look around, look around~”_

“How dare you! You’ve taken all I had left and now you mock me?!” Peggy howled at the top of her lungs, gripping the rails long enough to get a good scowl toward the unknown. “You all ought to be slain for your crimes! May you be eaten alive and burned at the stake so you feel every lick of the flame, you fucking bastards!”

The winds picked up speed immediately, no doubt controlled by something more powerful than she could try to comprehend, and the storm-esque waves began violently tossing her back and forth so much she had to hang on as tightly as possible to what she currently had to avoid being flung off like a fly on a person. With all the strength she could muster, she made a mad dash beyond the door she exited from in the few seconds of regular ocean activity before slamming it shut and desperately spreading against the doorframe to avoid her supernatural murder. This all persisted for what felt like hours before everything abruptly stopped, and when she finally summoned the courage to look out of the small port window, she was absolutely shocked to see her eldest sister, very much alive, sitting on the level flooring of the deck with her eyes half-lidded and content.

“Ang…Angelica?” The youngest of the former trio called waterily as she ventured open the door, likely against her better judgement. “Is…is that really you?”

“It is I, my little Peggy,” Angelica replied with a warm smile. “I have missed you and Betsey so terribly.”

Peggy immediately ran into her arms and collapsed into exhausted sobs of relief, of anger, of confusion and resurfaced grief. For the time she was securely in her sister’s familiar arms, she could hardly care if this was a trick or genuine; she had her back for long to say goodbye, and if this meant her death, this was alright way to go. Much to her surprise and intense relief, however, she was not consumed by this immaculate replica of her lost Irish triplet, or even brutally handled. Instead, she was kissed tenderly on the forehead and was pulled back just enough to look into her sister’s eyes, which were a warm amber and practically glowing with radiant _life_.

“Where have you been all this time?” The seventeen year old whispered hoarsely. “Everyone was convinced you were long dead, eaten by the ocean and drowned not so long ago.”

Much to her surprise, the now nineteen year old laughed fondly and sat back; it was only then the youngest realized with a stark feeling of dread that her beautiful legs were now replaced with a stunning pastel pink tail. “You see, Tommy here…well, he made me truly happy! He even let me pick out my own tail, you see?”

“I-I do see,” she replied in a tone that she forced to be content for her now undoubtedly cursed sister’s sake. “And…and do you know what happened to Eliza?”

Once again, Angelica simply giggled and gestured over to her side. “Tommy spared her and her man because I told him too, of course! She should be done choosing her tail soon, and then we can all catch up!”

As promised, it was mere minutes that felt like lifetimes passing before a tall, dark-skinned man with seashell decorated hair and little coverage for clothes appeared with two shorter figures behind him. He walked confidently, easily scooping _her_ sister into his arms and making her giggle helplessly before he met her gaze just long enough to make her pointedly look to his ‘guests’. The sailor from before, a young man was olive skin and beautiful blue eyes, was now a deadly sort of beautiful with his mouth much more plump and large to accommodate for the new way of undoubted siren life he’d now partake in. Wrapped around his arm was _her_ Eliza, whose brown eyes were wide and sad as she held fast to the man- siren- she’d now evidently been committed to her. Unlike Angelica, however, her legs were simply a scaly pastel blue adorned with a few clear scales, one that made her shimmer in the breaking of the dawn despite her resigned posture.

“I’m sure we could include you in on the family reunion,” the man holding her eldest sister purred in a thick Southern drawl. “What do you say, little girl? _Look around, look around, at how lucky we are to be alive right now~”_

In bone-chilling harmony, her sisters immediately echoed his refrain. _“Look around, look around~”_

This was wrong, and she did not have to be told twice. She was once again being forced beneath waves and nature-strength forces to conform, sit still, live a life of complacency and obedience, and she couldn’t bring herself to do it. It was very, very clear that their beloved Angie was too far gone to ever hope of bringing back home, but Eliza wasn’t; she was sad, she was afraid, she was still alive beneath the façade. She was about to protest and tell this siren what he could do his hands lingering all over her sibling’s body, but meeting her Betsey’s resolute gaze made her think twice.

 _Go,_ Eliza’s voice echoed softly within her head with shocking clarity. _Be free. Be all that we cannot, and I will learn to be happy among them. Should the time come, I promise that Alexander, God willing Angelica, and I will find you. You must go now or he shall never relent. I love you._

“I…” Peggy’s words felt disconnected from her body, which quaked with suffering too terrible to name and felt as broken as her family members looked. “I love you both. Goodbye.”

As she rushed back into her cabin and collapsed in a sorrow so terrible she couldn’t make a sound, she blocked out the sound of the ship’s help being lured to their gruesome deaths. When she reached the Caribbean, she allowed her long-term pen pal, one Mister John Laurens, to court her but not marry her for three years before finally determine she could wait no longer to wed the absolute love her life. When she became pregnant with their first child and they resided in their little vacation condo right by the sea, she spent her joyful days constantly tainted with the sadness of all she’d endured before for her lost sisters.

Above all of joys and sorrows of being Mrs. Laurens and the rebellious rock that somehow kept the living Schuylers somewhat together, Peggy waited for Eliza to fulfill her last promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please remember to leave kudos/subscribe/bookmark/LEAVE A REVIEW if it so compels you! Requests are still very much open, though it may be a little bit of a wait so I can consolidate my own ideas and my older requests, but I assure you they will be written to the very best of my ability! ♥


	14. The Dancing Sacrifice {Hamliza and Jeggy, Pt. 3 of the Dancing Sisters AU}

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A true remarkable conclusion is up the those living in the aftermath. 
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: This chapter is quite gore filled and with body modification. Stay safe, my friends!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AND SO WE HAVE REACHED THE ENDING OF THIS THREESHOT! Thank you so much for following along with this little mini-series/short story, and thank you again to the incredible Lele for requesting the initial chapter as well as continuing on supporting in the comments along with And The Power of Peggy! ♥
> 
> For this chapter, please conduct yourself as best you can to the chapter summary, and I ask that you suspend your disbelief to some of the events of their bodies; you must understand I believe sirens to be extremely physically able and strong, and that some events are a stretch because this is a modified fairytale at it's core. Without further adieu, enjoy! ♥

If you were to ask any of the members of the siren community inhabiting the waters between Europe and North America, they would reply that they were much like each other aside from the two Schuyler sisters that they’d so graciously adopted. The eldest, a beautiful young woman enchanted to permeant joy and clear song, was simple to keep entertained and was great fun to torture without consequence when her committed lover was not around; regardless of how she may feel truly, she could never communicate how she truly felt, and all of the cruel, haunting and proud born or fully converted sirens had taken advantage of her at some point or another in the six years preceding her capture. The younger of the pair, another beauty who looked nothing like Angelica or the even younger one who’d gotten away, was cursed in the same way but not with the same attention to detail and diligence that her sister had been. Elizabeth was always smiling and dutiful, but her eyes told a stories of sadness, fury and rebellion, a trait that infuriated the same torturers but allows seemed to allude both her partner and Thomas when they complained or failed countless times to harm or take advantage of the young woman, who always retaliated and evaded while occasionally exacting revenge.

As for Eliza herself, she’d grown happy to be paired with an allegedly converted siren such as Alexander.  For one thing, he didn’t exact his cruel urges or eat any man, woman or child that plunged to be feasted upon, opting to pretend to before the others but consume carefully and rapidly cooked sea life along with herself in the safety of their tiny, private cove with a thick seaweed curtain to ensure privacy. He was by no means fully one of the terrible monsters that they resided with, and did everything he could to communicate genuinely with her and find out what the truth was beneath her cursed tongue; the two wrote endlessly in sand gathered from the seafloor and along the walls of their home, speaking plans to escape and means to live long enough to reach Europe and somehow make their way onto a ship bound for Caribbean to reunite with her beloved Peggy.

Of course, both halves of a somewhat happy couple knew the two major obstacles preventing their rapid escape were lifting her and her sister’s curse as well as trying to save Angelica. The only person powerful enough and with enough potential to see through the lifting of the charms was the man Alexander hated with his entire soul, her retched partner Thomas, so the plan they finally got down to a practical science was to cause something too horrible for the spell to cover up.

Naturally, this was to have Eliza ‘die’, but as the day where they’d all be feeding after a ‘mysterious lack of supplies’ caused by Alexander came upon them, there were complications.

The first challenge were the victims they would have to convincingly ‘eat’, something they refused to do usually but feared might be necessary to sell Eliza’s bout of appeared insanity. When the two began to harmonize, it was not a man or a woman that fell under their spell; it was a child, a boy no more than four or five, and he was wrapped around them so tightly that the only thing to do would be to let him leap or fail their plan and have them both slaughtered and killed. As soon as his tiny form hit the waves, the twenty three year old woman shot off like a rocket and rescued the child, lifting him to the surface and having him heave up water and gasp while she resurfaced on the other side of the ship.

“M-Mommy,” the boy whimpered helplessly as she took a convoluted path she’d mapped with her love back to their cove. “M-Mommy, Mo-Mommy…”

“It’s alright now,” she soothed the best she could, her maternal instincts roaring to life despite the sinking feeling that she’d been forced to separate a boy from his mother. “It’s alright. Where…where is your mommy?”

Much to her combined relief and horror, the practical baby shook his head and held his knees tightly to his chest. “Heaven. _You’re_ not my new mommy.”

“Is your new mommy in Europe?” She inquired.

“Uh huh. Wanna go to see her, not you! You look weird!”

She supposed she ought to be offended, but he certainly wasn’t incorrect. “How kind of you. Listen, little one, you must stay here and be very, very quiet, or else something not so nice will happen. Can you do that for me?”

It would’ve been for her overly cheerful demeanor and sugarcoated words to fly over his head, but he nodded and clamped his lips sealed, much to her genuine relief. Knowing she had no time to waste, she retrieved a clump of insides of shells from the top of her home, dried enough and stained by sea spray enough to vaguely resemble flesh, and hauled tail to go back to her ‘family’. She climbed back to her rock with Alex, and she didn’t have to pretend to vomit when she saw how his eyes were deranged and face was absolutely covered in human blood.

“Delicious, so delicious!” He chanted in complete jubilancy. “Feast, my darling, feast! The load is sweet this day!”

Eliza found herself completely unable to tell if he’d fallen in her temporary absence or if he was an exceptional actor, but as she stared at the snickering and relieved looking beasts around her, she just as well assumed she’d be alone from here out. With tears streaming down her face, she let out a terrible shriek, one that made the last few captives from the ship scream out as well and flee from their certain deaths.

“What is wrong with you?!” One of the monsters snarled.

“She ought to be slain and hung up for such gall!” Another snapped.

“My name is Elizabeth Schuyler!” She declared while gagging on her own grief and growing infuriated with how gleeful she sounded. “And you cannot keep me prisoner anymore!”

Not allowing herself another look back to her partner, she dove under the waves and resurfaced only to show her tail flicking up before disappearing under the ship. The bottom weighed even more than she could’ve imagined, and she found herself fighting and getting lost while losing nearly all of her oxygen. She clawed desperately as she was forced underneath the ocean, her hands and mouth searching frantically for a lose piece of wood, and when she managed to tear through she emerged gasping and sputtering into the mechanical room.

“Oi!” Her feelings of desperately needed relief were squandered by her hair being yanked up and thrown to the side before she was discarded in favor of rapidly patching the hole she’d made. “What in the hell are you?!”

Eliza knew she couldn’t stop, not for a single second. She dragged herself over to the petrified and furious engineer, throwing her heavy tail against him and causing him to fall backwards. She grabbed a piece of the broken plank and began to tear at her mermaid flesh, her screams even more horrendous than her usual ones, but it wasn’t until a knife was plunged through her singular muscle that she howled at full volume and terror.

With the last bit of strength she had, she squirmed back into the water and allowed the current to bob her back toward the siren colony.

* * *

Alexander had to remind himself only on a second-by-second basis that his love could conduct the first tier of their plan. He had to wrap his mouth around a corpse and be covered in blood, sure, but she’d no doubt saved the boy before diving beneath the ship. He was giving up hope that she’d survived enough to set off Phase II, but when he saw her unmistakable black hair emerged through the galloons of blood that’d been appearing beneath the vessel, he wasted no time in retrieving her.

Thomas’s southern drawl broke up the general shock of the clan first. “Holy-”

His Eliza, his beautiful Eliza, was almost certainly dead, drained of life and too much blood to survive. He was no longer acting as he shrieked in sorrow, sobbing grossly into her chest as it was revealing her tail had a knife imbedded deeply into it to the point of it losing so much vital blood to compliment her blue tinted lips and face. It was only when he caught a wisp of hope in two twitches from her otherwise limp hand within his own that he knew she was fading fast but not entirely lost, but he couldn’t let his flame of prospect show.

“Have you no heart?!” He demanded furiously to Thomas as he held her tightly. “Transform her back to as she was! I will bury her in the dignity we all knew she wanted to desperately!”  

All of the colony’s eyes were on him; some was surprisingly sympathetic, some even tearful, as many were apathetic and others seemed too appalled to emote otherwise. Thomas, God blessed be, seemed sympathetic as he covered his own wife’s eyes from the horror; the bastard knew what such a scene would do if she were to realize it, a fact he and Betsey had been counting on.

“Very well,” he conceded with a soft sigh. “I can’t imagine why she finally cracked after all this time. You ought to be ashamed you did little more than watch her perish; you’ve only yourself to blame, you foolish Halfling.”

Alex was no stranger to being called derogatory names and the abuse from one of the leaders, but it was only now as he held his quite possibly dead one and only that he was finally able to exact revenge. As he touched her chest- a little too much so across her breasts, he noted with red-hot fury- and her go-lucky expression relaxed and her tail was replaced with two paper-white legs with a massive gash across the top of her right kneecap, he lunged and knocked his sister in law free of Thomas’s iron grip.

 At first, Angelica giggled as she sat up. “Are we wrestling now, Lexi??”

“Look around, look around, at how unlucky we are to be alive right now,” he choked out as he was immediately caught in the clawing grip of his ‘boss’.

Angelica did as she was implored, and as soon as she saw the corpse, she froze in a manor so stiff and stunned that her lover loosened his penetrating hold just a little.

“Angie…Angel, sugarplum, my darlin’, this ain’t what it looks like. Just another one of your silly dreams.”

Silly dreams. So she _was_ still in there all along, unable to cry or rebel or even frown, and now she was fully awake to gaze on her sister’s lifeless form. The twenty four, nearly twenty five year old mermaid/siren was perfectly still for several _minutes_ , and to Alex’s horror, she finally broke out of stunned horror to scoot back into her husband’s arms with a happy expression.

“Good thing this is a dream,” she chirped. “Because of this weren’t, I’d just have to say that _neither of us are ever waking up.”_

It happened in a blur, but Angelica Schuyler clamped her jaw around Thomas’s neck with her full weight thrown against him and sending them both struggling under water. Even if he was lugging a corpse, Alexander immediately grabbed his love and jumped into the sea, furiously swimming and fighting to keep them both above the surface as he sang in broken, desperate fragments.

 _“See me, help m-me!”_ He called desperately as some of the colony began to surround and yank him away from the potential safety of the ship. _“See me, help me~! SEE ME, HELP ME SEE ME HELP ME~!!”_

If a siren ever consumed another of their time, two fundamental truths would occur; the eaten would convert into whatever they prior to decease, and the eater would be completely shattered mentally from being a cannibal. None of this evidently mattered to the female now chomping down on his dominant arm, leaving him to kick as hard as could away from the males and towards the ship now moving even more quickly away.

He didn’t remember losing all the blood he did. He didn’t remember being laid on the deck and kept alive through an emergency kit, or being put under entirely for a rapid surgery to save his life. He didn’t even remember seeing his girlfriend right beside him on a ventilator, her face slowly regaining color and her savior crying in relief as she began to breathe with the machine. All Alexander Hamilton remembered before a cold darkness consumed him was a man in a bandana lifting him out of the sea with a pair of orange earplugs wedged securely beneath the head cloth, said gentleman clinging to a half descended buoy and gripping another lifeless body between his legs.

* * *

As it turned out, it was remarkably hard to convince a traveling ship full of traumatized people, even when a little boy was involved. Eliza ended up hauling ass to the best of her ability, which was crawling, to the lifeboats until the kind gentleman who resuscitated her eventually implored the captain to change course under the promise to stay out of the range of the sirens and for he and the kind man who saved her boyfriend’s life to be the one to retrieve the youth. Though both men came back cut up and looking quite shaken, they had the little one in hand, who immediately clung to her.

“Al-Alexander,” she whispered hoarsely as she enjoyed the second day she was able to breathe independently with her partner consistently awake beside her. “What happened to her? What happened to my Angelica?”

A dark expression took over his handsome features, and the cold feeling settling into the pit of her stomach proved her worst fears were true. “She attacked Thomas when she saw you…well, dead. She said that they were both never going to wake up.”

“Oh, my Angie,” she whispered as the tears began to stream down her face. “God, Peggy will be so angry we didn’t save her.”

He took one of her hands with the one that he still had, abet a bit clumsily. “Peggy will just be glad that _you’re_ alive. We did all that we could.”

Her grief and survivor’s guilt enveloped the rest of their long trip to the Caribbean, but her beloved Alexander never stopped his comforting and reassurances. The two of them also informally adopted the boy after his ‘new parents’ turned out to simply be another orphanage, filing all the paperwork and taking him to their new home before a second doubt could arise about the very much alive princess of the Schuyler kingdom.

“Hello?” When the door of a well-decorated and cozy home opened, the now oldest sister began to cry immediately upon seeing her grown little sister with an adorable child in her arms. “B-Betsey? BETSEY!”

As time continued on, the physical relinquishes made by Eliza and Alex simply became a normal part of life, and the terrible pain by Angelica’s ultimate sacrifice was cushioned with time and the same unconditional love. John Laurens was a very handsome and loving man to her lovely Peggy, and it was only a few months before she was wed to the man she survived against the odds with along with formally adopting their sunny little boy, Phillip. The five of them eventually became a large family, all remaining together as they moved houses four times to accommodate their children and the family that visited more regularly than ever on a new route directly to the Caribbean from their kingdom.

As Eliza sat on her front porch beside her second oldest child, a firey little girl who looked so much like her namesake it almost broke her heart, Angelica looked over as she finished reading a story of fairytales to the youngest children. “And they all lived happily ever after?”

The woman simply smiled and wrapped her arm around her eldest daughter with a tight, affectionate squeeze. “Exactly.”

And though they did not live perfectly or without trials, they all lived contently ever after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please remember to leave kudos/subscribe/bookmark/leave a review/REQUEST if it so compels you! ♥


	15. Reindeer Onesies {Holiday Elams}

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John Laurens knows that this is the best time of year with the best people he's ever known, but the festivities that come with traditions he has only now become part of give him a bit of the holiday blues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HUGE shoutout to the-best-fool on Tumblr for a wonderful list of Christmas-themed prompts, which gave me the fuel for a long overdo (and v festive update), and very warm shoutouts to my lovely Amanda and lovely Sarah, who are my fellow mega Elams fans! ♥
> 
> Holiday prompts are highly requested for pretty much any ship pairing this month and I'm finally done with finals, so please, ask away! ♥♥♥ More 'regular' (that is, non-holiday) prompts will be filled, coming soon to an Internet near you, but I l o v e this time of year and just had to celebrate with my favorite Hamilton ship!

“I think you’re lying to me,” John announced to his very beautiful wife, who was glowing with excitement as she held their nearly four year old in her arms. “I think you have gone too far into Pinterest, found the cutest and more embarrassing thing you could find, and now you are lying to me to convince me it is a ‘family tradition’.”

“She’s not lying!” His very handsome husband called in response, his head poking out ever so slightly from he was leaned back in his office chair from working on some new essay project. “We do it every year!”

“Every year?! Oh, God be with me!” The South Carolina native lamented dramatically. “I shall never be man on the nights before Christmas!”

“You can take that toxic masculinity elsewhere in front of our very impressionable young son!” Eliza exclaimed nearly immediately, her eyes narrowing playfully as she covered their hyperactive toddler’s ears. “Besides, who needs to be tough and macho when you’re celebrating the best time of the year with your family? Papa never needed to; neither did my brothers.”

“Very well!” John dramatically conceded, but if truth be told, he didn’t really mind.

Eliza perked up even more and gently handed over their baby boy, Phillip, who immediately giggled and hugged onto his Papa while his mother went to fetch the onesies and likely their baby girl, Frances. Alexander finally made his way out of his office, which he’d essentially been fused to for the past two weeks, and gave them both a tired smile before plopping down on the couch in dramatic glory.

“I’m going to sleep and relax with my loved ones for the next two weeks,” he declared with a warm smile to Phillip, making the toddler bounce and wiggle to get down. “The office won’t be hearing a peep from me until the new year. How’s that sound, Pip-Pip?”

“Daddy!” The three year old exclaimed eagerly while tumbling over himself to climb into his father’s lap. “Daddy home!”

“That’s right, buddy!” Alexander laughed gently while helping the child up for some snuggling. “Daddy’s home for a while, just for you and your baby sister.”

“Franny! Franny…Mommy…make! We make! We make cookies!” The child chirped excitedly while he clung closer to his parent, and while the two of them talked and bonded as father-son, John couldn’t help but still feel left out despite having been the final piece in the relationship between Alex and Eliza.

He knew it was bound to happen, of course. He’d known his best friend since they were teenagers, their eyes ablaze for joining the armed forces and sexualities finding each other as partners. No matter how he had never doubted his partner’s love, Laurens broke things off the second he saw how helplessly in love he became for the middle Schuyler sister, and had been silently hurting until both of them approached him in Eliza’s third trimester and after being married almost a year to inquire if he was interested in being in a polyamorous relationship with them. As they’d made it quite clear, they were both very much in love with each other _and_ one of their mutual best friends, and even if he were to decline, the face that they were both absolutely on the same page had made their relationship even stronger and healthier than it had been keeping it from each other out of monogamous-assumed shame.

Now they’d all been wed for seven months, and immediately after their wedding to unify the three of them in a gorgeous ceremony that made them the happiest partners in the universe, they were overjoyed to find out she was pregnant immediately thereafter. Frances was undoubtedly his, her sharp features and light brown skin practically mirror to his, and while her birth was by far his greatest achievement besides his marriage and being the second papa to Pip, he couldn’t help the feelings of being an outsider. Of course the three of them had spent the holidays the previous year together, but not overnight due to his obligations to his mother and siblings, and now he got to witness and learn their traditions as though he’d belonged there all along when they all secretly knew he didn’t.

“Tada!” Eliza came out with their daughter in hand, her tiny frame absolutely swaddled in a warm reindeer onesie. “Isn’t this the most precious thing you’ve ever laid your eyes on?”

“Well, any of you fall into that category at any time, so yes,” John agreed with a fond beam, taking the baby from her arms and snuggling her close to his chest. “Hello, my little miracle. Aren’t you just to die for!”

Frances cooed eagerly, clearly pleased by the praise and attention, and he continued to hold her with warm affection as his wife shimmied her own onesie over her pajamas, a matching set that was well-loved and worn with festive sayings all over the pants and a beautifully designed ‘Sleep in Heavenly Peace’ on the shirt. The young woman pulled her hood over her head and beamed anew, like she finally felt complete, and how her eyes glowed in the festive lights all over their home did his insecure heart much good.

“It’s your turn!” She insisted while taking their daughter, who fussed until she was placed into her playpen, where her favorite toys waited for her. “Go on, and one of you be a dear and get Phillip in his!”

“C’mon, buddy,” Alex volunteered kindly while lifting the tot up onto his shoulders. “Let’s go get changed into our pajamas!”

“Jamas!” Pip cheered as they went, John trailing behind them silently as he dipped into their master bathroom after grabbing the garment off their king sized, custom made bed that her father had gotten them as an early Christmas present.

As the twenty five year old dressed in his own reindeer onesie, he couldn’t help but reflect on how he’d be spending this evening without his beloved spouses and children. His mother was undoubtedly working her hardest with his youngest sister on the feast, probably taking a break now to serve the ‘mini buffet’ that came with it being Christmas Eve, and his father would be out getting drunk out of it his mind with the holiday deals, all alone in some bar like he deserved. His younger brother and older sister were wrapping their presents or playing a board game with their cousins, and his expansive home looked as Hallmark perfect as it had the day following Thanksgiving with the help of their hired help. As occasionally insincere and problematic his loved ones could be, he _did_ adore his mother and siblings, and he felt less at home as he ever had while the sounds of his husband’s and adopted son’s laughter rang out from the nearby room.

‘Perhaps some people are just meant to be alone,’ he mused despondently to himself as he adjusted the fuzzy garment around his pajamas.

“My boys!” Their Betsey was hardly able to contain herself as the three of them made their way back into the living room, her cheeks rosy from smiling so much and her camera snapping pictures in her hands. “Aww, my handsome boys! Look at Mommy, baby boy, look at Mommy…! Alexander, stop sticking out your tongue! One nice photo!”

John couldn’t help but flush wide pride when he saw his male spouse and child smiling with the boy happily holding close to his father. Alexander’s hood completely covered his head, his hair hanging freely at his shoulders underneath fabric while the decorated head covered his forehead. Phillip was clearly very comfy in his, his own hair too puffy and curly to be fully contained while he laughed and played while his mother photographed this moment.

“Johnny, why don’t you get Franny for me?” His wife requested sweetly. “Then I can get some of you two holding them together, and maybe some of my handsome partner alone, hm?”

“Be sure to get the kiddos together,” he advised while scooping up their youngest and his first biologically created child. “They won’t be this tiny forever; Alexander and I will also look this devilishly handsome.”

“Be still my heart,” she teased before lifting the device back over her face. “Franny! Frances, honey, look at Mommy!”

Around an hour and about a million pictures later, the three of the adults had finally settled on the couch while Phillip contently played on his tablet and Frances played with her stuffed animals in her play pen. John’s heart ached slightly when they both reached for his hands at the same time, a notion that normally left him giddy but now just reminded him of how much he stuck out.

“John, you’ve been awfully quiet since we put these on,” Alex noted softly. “Is something on your mind?”

“It’s nothing,” he replied much too quickly. “Just thinking about…my family, I guess.”

“Your family here or your mother and siblings?” Eliza wisely caught at once, something that made him only redden in the face.

“…I just don’t really mesh well here, at least not naturally,” he admitted reluctantly, the walls he’d once been a master at fortifying to never even tremble easily dissolving under their concerned gazes; how could he lie to the best things in his previously somber life? “You two have been together for years, and spent all these holidays together, even with Pip-Pip. Why would you want someone like me coming in and glooming the place up with his young adult angst bullshit?”

“Little ears,” Betsey replied gently before answering his no longer subtle call for reassurance. “Johnny…It’s never easy living in a mixed family; Alexander could tell you better than me, but there’s a lot to be said for a person who loves their partners so very much he’s willing to make some compromises and even sacrifices on his end. We know the background you come from, and that this year brings up painful memories, but how are you spending it with your spouses of eight months? Playing with your kids, wearing fuzzy onesies, letting your wife take pictures…having fun. At least, I hope you are?”

“Of course I am!” He conceded immediately. “You both have your traditions, though, and you’re having to accommodate to me. I don’t want to be a burden when I’ve got nothing to add.”

“Sure you do!” Alex slipped his arm around him fully, turning his body to face him more fully while squeezing his hand with his free left one. “John, one of the most entertaining parts of the holiday is mixing Christmas traditions. Knowing Mama Laurens, you have things we just can’t wait to try for ourselves; how about those handmade ornaments you taught us and Phillip to make, or those recipes we tried on Thanksgiving? You aren’t a burden in the slightest for being new to our quirky little annuals; as a matter of fact, we’re probably the obnoxious ones for having so many!”

“Never,” he corrected. “I love spending so much time with both of you more than I have the words to describe. The thing you’ve given to me are too wonderful for me to be able to ever repay…Your presence in my life all throughout the years gave me my mother and siblings back, but I gained even more in dating and having the greatest honor of locking you both to me with wedding bands. I have an adopted son who shines brighter than the sun, a beautiful daughter from my own loins who is a sharp as a needle, two perfect spouses…I just want to be able to live up to the man I want to be, the husband you both deserve, and a father to make Pip and Franny proud.”

To his horror, both of his spouses had tears in their eyes, but they hugged him tightly before he could apologize. With their breath hot on his chest and shoulders, their hearts beating strongly through all the fabric between them, Laurens felt as though if they hold on close enough, perhaps they’d become even more whole than they could’ve imagined. All of them, even sweet Eliza, had been damaged by the cruelty of life and the difficulty of caring about others- Alexander even more so than him, he’d decided long ago- and yet there was never this air of ‘getting over it’ than existed in the walls of the Laurens Manor. Instead, they talked openly, emotionally sincere and honestly, and the reassurance poured out of his mouth as it did theirs in times of joy tinted with doubt as well as times of pain and heartbreak. As a much younger person, he could’ve never imagined all he had now, and for that he was determined to keep it.

“You never used to talk like that,” Alex remarked with a soft, fond laugh. “You’d keep it all bottled up until you passed out at the bar or got into a fight. We could never get it out of you with all those layers, but I guess we finally wore your stubborn as- butt down.”

“I know you know we love each other,” Eliza added after she stopped the reprimanding look to her other husband for his language. “But we want to show you how much we love _you_. We were a happy couple, but the fulfillment we get from being your husband and wife? God, I couldn’t be happier if I tried; could you, Alexander?”

“Nope,” he concurred before leaning close to his ear. “I’ll be sure to give you a ride through Santa’s sleigh later, and I bet Mrs. Claus has gifts her own to share.”

“What does that make me?!” He exclaimed despite the notions making him even more over the moon. “Your elf??”

“Nope!” Their wife giggled and tugged at his hood, which had a red nose like the children’s, fondly. “That makes you Rudolph!”

“The implications of that statement disturb me!” John protested, but truth be evident, he didn’t mind. “Now, out of all the photos you took, we didn’t get any altogether. Come on, I’ll show you how to set up the tripod again, and we’ll get something for the holiday card next year.”

“But aren’t you supposed to use only updated photos so extended family can see how you change?” Alex pointed out, smartass he was.

“At least it’ll make a good Facebook photo!” He exclaimed with mock frustration, something that made his lady and son giggle.

Directly thereafter, they had a few fails for posing before getting a few very nice snaps, and he had the idea to show them all how to make their own festive-themed cookies like the Pillsbury ones, but better. Mostly the adults made their gingerbread house after a nice supper, one Eliza had made out much like his own mother with the more expansive meal either put up for cooling or that was slow cooking, and a holiday movie finally knocked their hyper toddler out for the night so they could go make love.

All and all (and despite how cheesy he knew it sounded), John and his dearest family had a very, very merry Christmas.


	16. The Importance of Being Together {Lafria}

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being apart from the ones you are meant to be with has consequences, but the reward of finding each other is better than anyone could've imagined. Request fufilled from Lele426! 
> 
> TW: MAJOR, MAJOR TRIGGER WARNINGS BEFORE THE CUT FOR GRAPHIC DOMESTIC ABUSE!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This couple is something I have a huge appreciation for now. God Bless it and God Bless this request. ♥

Maria didn’t do anything to provoke her husband. She’d made dinner a bit earlier than usual and was in the middle of feeding their toddler when he came in, looking like a mess as per usual as he dressed out of his working clothes, which changed daily to suite the various occupations he took up under the radar to provide just enough money to ensure their survival. As he sat down at the table, he pushed his food around on his plate for a few moments before slapping his hand down on the table loudly and shooting a glare to his wife.

“This is fucking frozen,” he snapped cruelly. “It’s nasty. You expect me to eat this fucking garbage?”

“Dearest, you eat this all the time. It only takes a couple of minutes to heat it up,” Maria reminded in a quiet tone. “That wouldn’t be too much to ask, would it?”

“You disgust me,” James snapped, picking up the plate and chucking at her head with such force that had she not ducked away, it would’ve shattered against her head rather than the wall. “You expect me to take this bullshit?! I provide everything for you and our bastard child, and you have the NERVE to give me some frozen ass dinner?! You’ve forgotten your place, you goddamn whore!!!”

“I’ll heat it up!” And just like that their relationship was another battlefield, one where she was his enemy and he was the valiant hero that had to slay every impure part of her to save the sludge inside that he’d take pity on when the dust cleared. “I’ll remake it, I’ll do whatever you want! I promise!”

“Fuck your lying ass and fuck this goddamn abomination you call a meal!!” He roared, seizing her by the hair as she screamed and struggled as desperately as she could when she was still healing from his last punishments, underfed and ill. “I’LL TEACH YOU TO DISRESPECT ME!!”

The next amount of time was unmeasurable and lost to her as she simply tried to keep breathing. All that existed was pain, pain, pain, all worse than the last, all ripping open all the wounds that were far deeper than simply physical, all engulfing her existence so that she could remember this was all she was. Maria Reynolds was a whore. Maria Reynolds was an insufferable bitch who did not deserve ever a sliver of kindness that she’d get greedier on. Maria Reynolds deserved all the abuse, all the belittling, and all the suffering. Maria Reynolds would not be alive if it weren’t for her gracious husband. Maria Reynolds did not deserve to live.

When it was finally over, when she could open eye that wasn’t swollen shut and the blade had stopped its biting, she no longer heard her daughter screaming or crying. She lifted herself up on sheer will alone, her strength a ghost in her body as she searched for the one thing she cared to protect in this life. She finally found her curled up in the deepest crevice of the linen closet, her tiny form fitting perfectly in the wooden tunnel built into their home long ago to serve as an escape route should there be no other way. Certainly her husband didn’t know about it- he’d call it useless and have it sealed- and she herself doubted she’d be able to wiggle through, but the two year old was like a puzzle piece against it as she stared out with sad, terrified eyes to her mother.

“Mommy,” the tot whispered brokenly. “Daddy go.”

“Yes, baby girl, Daddy’s gone,” Maria assured softly, hoping that her daughter couldn’t see the blood she knew was trickling from her lips. “Do you want to stay in there for a little while? Mommy can clean things up and get some yummy food for you. Whatever you want.”

“Kay Mommy…” The toddler eased herself back into the crevice, and the mother internally thanked herself for never reinforcing the thin mood that covered the exit should her child ever need to take off for help if things ever got worse.

Truthfully, it sickened her to know she had to have the same talk with her only offspring that her grandmother once had with her, but at least Susan would always have a way out as long as that tunnel stayed intact and Maria ensured it was big enough to be slipped through by her daughter.

Showering was painful, almost as bad as the actual beatings, but nothing was worse than trying to desperately bandage herself back up with all the new bruises, welts, cuts and God knows what else. Eventually she resigned herself to simply pulling on a red nightgown and proceeding on, trying to fix her baby’s favorite meal with only one hand due to the awful, awful agony in her dominant one was in. By some miracle (or maybe just agonizing luck), she got the macaroni and cheese with dinosaur nuggets on a plate before retrieving the light of her life to eat it. As per James’s increasing violent and seen-to threats, she could never tell a soul about the things he did to her, but she resolved herself enough to call her mother over to watch the toddler while she ‘ran to the store’.

“Can’t James watch her for once in his life?” Her mother asked; she’d never liked the man who’d wed her at the tender age of fifteen in dark market certificate, but her own insistence he was the best thing to ever happen to her had kept her from intervening. “Don’t you tell me he’s off drinking again.”

“Mama, he hasn’t even gotten home yet. He’s working late today,” Maria lied with the defeat sagging down her morale. “Please just hurry. I need to go now before they close; I love you.”

The terribly battered woman was intending to go to the hospital for her wrist, but she had no time to call an Uber or stall if her parent was coming over immediately. Instead, she fumbled on some boots and decided against the agony of trying a coat, as it was only September and the wind couldn’t be that terrible yet. With a final kiss to her beloved Susan, she made her way out of the door and began to run, as quickly as she could manage with her entire being begging for mercy, until she collapsed on a vacant bench in the park with tears pouring down her face and every joint ablaze.

The wind was picking up around her. Her nightgown was clinging to her body, providing little to no warmth as thunder rumbled dangerously above her. As she lay completely helpless on the park bench- God knows what had been on it lately- she resolved this was exactly how she deserved to die. For the millionth time in her miserable existence, she was alone, and this time she very well may perish here. The rain began to fall in heavy, frigid drops, but she didn’t have the strength to cry even if she wasn’t too numb to care anymore.

“Ello? Miss?” A voice with a strange, foreign accent inquired, too close to ignore.

When she opened her good eye, she discovered a gentleman clad very well in autumn-appropriate clothing and a concerned expression to be standing directly over her with his large umbrella in hand. The streetlights glowed against the ink of night, revealing his hair to be long and piled in neat curled on top of his head, and the amber of his eyes reflected so beautifully it felt as though they saw right through her.

“He-hello, sorry,” she mumbled, sitting up carefully and trying not to agitate her wrist further. “I’m not trying to loiter. I’ll go home now.”

“Wait, wait,” the man implored with his thickly accented voice weighted with concern that sounded too genuine to ignore in her current state. “You look half-alive, ma’am. Who did this to you?”

“Nobody did anything to me,” she responded like she’d been trained to a thousand times. “The light is playing tricks on you, sir. Thank you for your worry, but I really am fine and must be going.”

When he grabbed her lame wrist, she was expecting him to snap it for being so bold around him or at least sternly tell her what for due to her ruining the park with her sad ass. The moment a cry erupted from her lips, however, he dropped it without another move to regain it, and she found herself pressed against the warm layers of his coat as she was escorted by his arm around her tightly. The young woman figured she was being kidnapped now, and that with her being gone, Susan could finally have a good life with her beloved parents and thrive, but the concern for herself was simply no longer there. Needless to say that she was quite surprised when she was brought into a parking garage and driven to a hospital, one with residents who were clearly appalled by her state and rushed her into a room where they hooked up all kinds of monitors and got her prepped for a surgery.

“I can’t pay for this!” She’d screamed as the kind man carried her in and continued to insist as they treated her. “I can’t! He’ll kill me! He’ll fucking kill me when he finds out, he will! LET ME GO!”

When the world slowly returned into focus, she found herself waking up from what felt like the best sleep she’d had in years. She looked around to find herself still in a hospital room, now with all the monitors along with sterile, carefully applied bandages and a cast on her aching wrist. In the corner of the room, a man who absolutely took her breath away sat with his hair tied up messily on his head, sweats, and a hoodie that read ‘Immigrants: We Get the Job Done’. As if he could sense her movement despite having his eyes on his phone before, he made eye contact with her so abruptly that she dropped her gaze and waited for scolding for such a cowardly action.

“Ma chere, are you alright?” He inquired softly. “You were in a really bad shape last night; we were all quite worried about you.”

“Why did you stay?” The question slipped from her lips before she could filter it through, to perform a carefully crafted set of responses to never elicit a response like she always did for her husband.

“I hope it is not too creepy, amour,” he apologized, and unlike James’s many utterances of the same, she felt inclined to believe him. “I was quite worried about you. You were in a condition no human being should ever have to suffer through, and I wanted to ensure I saw you to the other side. I hope you do not mind.”

For the first time in the long, torturous eleven years, Maria felt like she could answer someone who acted like they cared with honesty. “Not…not at all. My name is…Maria.”

“The pleasure is mine, Miss Maria. Please call me Gilbert.”

* * *

 

At the end of the day, it was Alexander’s fault that Gilbert de Lafayette met his wife and future daughter.

The short man had implored that he take his place so he could go home to his partners and their case was still prepared for the following Monday, and while he gave him plenty of Hell for it, he did agree under the knowledge he didn’t mind helping at all and had nothing better to do regardless. Considering how the forecast never mentioned poor weather, the Frenchman had simply walked his commute to work and thanked his lucky stars for keeping a spare umbrella in his office for occasions such as the night that was upon him when it was all prepared. He hadn’t been expecting to run into anyone in the park, much less discover a half-dead woman who looked like one of the many sorrowfully tormented souls of the revolution he’d just been honorably discharged from serving in the military, but everything he’d learned during his time kicked in to keep her alive.

When she’d been realized from the hospital, he had simply offered to watch over her young daughter while she figured out a new place to live. As he bonded with the child, however, he grew closer to her incredibly strong, beautiful and kind mother, who finally worked up to ask out on a date after the court date for their divorce was set. The process had been long and complicated, especially with the custody battle, but in the end the immigrant had some of the best lawyers in the state on their side (including himself) and they were able to essentially liberate the two from James Reynolds’s freak show of a mentality as well as get him behind bars.

“Papa, help!” Susan, who was now and always the prettiest little girl he’d ever be proud to call his own, implored from where she stood decorating their Christmas tree now. “I gotta put the star on top!”

Gil lifted the six year old with ease, holding her up to the best of his ability like she was the baby Simba until she finally announced it was perfect. “It is perfect, sweetheart. Now, why don’t you get your mommy so she can see me light it up?”

The child beamed and rushed on her way, her curls that matched her mother’s flying behind her and energy admirable by the most active of adults. It had taken years to get her to be able to open up fully, show all of her damaged edges to him, but he was not easily deterred to someone he adored so fully. Together they’d built a relationship full of trust and honesty, one that was finally celebrating in a princess-like wedding that God knew both of his girls deserved just over one year ago. The France native smiled as they both entered now, a mother and daughter nearly identical in their beauty, and kissed his wife after getting a small squeeze to the hand that meant consent.

“Papa, hurry up!” The child insisted as he fumbled with the various cords. “You gotta huuuurriieeee!”

“Okay, okay!” Gil laughed as he finally found the correct ends to maximize light while not blowing out their circuits like last year. “I’m about to do it! Count me down, Susie!”

“5!” The kindergartener chanted excited, her eyes flitting back and forth between her parents will all the innocent joy that only childhood brought. “4! 3! 2~!”

“Wait, wait!” Maria exclaimed suddenly, her eyes twinkling despite the lights not yet being switched on. “I have one more ornament to put on! I’m so sorry, Gil, will you wait here with Susie while I fetch it?”

“OKAY MOMMY!” Their daughter responded eagerly, so much so that the man began to seriously wonder what the two of them could be hiding from him.

“I feel left out!” He lamented dramatically, leaning to the wall and winking fondly to their kiddo as his true love looked around for the ornament in question.

“Here we are!”

When Maria, his beloved Maria, put the final decoration on the tree, Gilbert could hardly believe his eyes. The ornament was decorated like a present with a flat, solid backing, and in a little frame that was perfectly filled with a symmetrical, laminated piece of paper, there was an ultrasound photograph. Above this in gold lettering, the frame read ‘Baby’s First Christmas’. He turned around with his mouth gaping and she simply smiled hopefully at him, holding up two pregnancy tests in one hand and more full-sized pictures in the other with a tearful laugh.

“I’m sorry for keeping it from you,” she almost whispered with guilt fraying on the rest of her overwhelming positive emotions. “But I wanted to surprise you.”

With all the enthusiasm that he first lifted her into his arms with, Gil gathered her up and spun her around, laughing and crying himself. “I am so happy! Oh, my darling, do not apologize! This is the happiest day of my life, right beside marrying you and adopting Susie! Oh my goodness, my darling wife!”

And just like the pieces of their family were once so easily set apart by fate, once again in the warmth of their living room with the lights soon glowing and the fireplace warning, they were all whole again together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please remember to leave kudos/bookmark/subscribe/write a review if it so compels you! Requests are still open!


	17. The Passion of Loyalty {Schuyler Family-Centric with Adopted! Alexander}

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Going from nothing to everything is a gradual process, and while Alexander loves all of his family equally, he cannot but help to have one of his fiercest allegiances to his older sister. A lovely request filled from the very kind Goatly_Sacrifices!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is hard to express how much I just ADORED filling this one-shot! It was so fun and pure to write, not to mention the dynamic between Alex and Angie is always a delightful treat to express, and of course this AU made me feel very warm inside. Thank you so, so much to the amazing Goatly_Sacrifices for this request, and please enjoy! ♥

The girl who caught Alexander's eye first was the one in the brightly colored floral dress with thick curly hair that was barely contained with her pale pink sunglasses. He'd never seen a shade of pink that brightly, especially not with that pattern, which was strange considering how many tourists he saw being a kid in the Caribbean. She was holding on to the fanny pack of a woman with long, thick hair that was straight who had the same eyes- probably her mother- and was talking very animatedly to whoever else was on their boat that he couldn't see in his current position.

"Alexander!" His cousin's voice quipped out sharply, alarming the boy so much he sprung right to his feet from where he'd been hanging his legs off the edge of the small but steep cliff. "What are you doing lazing around, huh? There is work to be done!"

"I have done all of my chores and responsibilities!" He argued at once. "I can do whatever I want with the rest of my day!"

"You are done when I say you are done!" Stephan insisted while grabbing the spritely eight year old's arm. "Come on now, you have a booth to maintain, little boy!"

"Let me go!" Alex immediately protested, digging his bare heels into the sand and yanking back as hard as he could. "Let me go! You are not my father, you are not my mother! LET GO!"

"Excuse me, sir." Suddenly a man with light brown skin and a somber expression was before them, his eyes steady underneath his eloquently designed glasses. "I hope there is not a problem? It is just as well not my business, but you are handling that child rather roughly as he screams. I couldn't help but overhear and become concerned."

"You fucking tourists are all the same! You're here to save the poor little island rats, aren't you?" Stephan spit condemningly, shoving the younger boy and sending him tumbling down the cliffside until he was at the man's feet. "There! You can keep his spoiled ass!"

"Stephan!" Alexander shouted furiously, clambering to ascend the side of the mountain but simply falling back into the sand several times. "Stephan, fuck you! You're the worst person I've ever met! Go choke!"

"Does that man hurt you often?" The older gentleman, who reeked of foreigner in his smart but casual suit and unusual speech, inquired in a kind tone. "That is certainly no way to treat a young man."

"What do you care? I don't have many or services to give you," the boy replied sharply. "Just leave me alone, okay?"

"Papa?" A small, feminine voice quipped from behind the foreigner, and Alex felt his entire face heat up anew when he caught sight of a pretty little girl now holding onto his arm with her gorgeous brown eyes right on him. "Who is this?"

"I'm not sure," her father admitted with a raised eyebrow. "He doesn't want our help though, it seems. Come along, Betsey, your mother is hungry and I'm sure you are too."

"W-wait!" The eight year old exclaimed sharply, so much so he immediately shrunk with the two turned back around. "I…I am…hungry. I-if you really mean to help me…"

The older man simply raised a hand, one that made him clamp his mouth shut and brace for impact before he spoke. "You are more than welcome to join my family for dinner, son. Come along now."

"N-notcha son," he grumbled on instinct, but he obediently scampered after them regardless.

In front of the boat, which was large enough to fit a much bigger family and clearly well-loved but extremely well made, the woman with the straight black hair was standing with another little girl and baby swaddled in her arms. She looked curiously to him, as if she'd perhaps miscounted how many children they had, before kissing the man and exchanging several whispers with him. He wanted to squeeze in and demand to know what they were saying about it, but that's when the girl he'd seen first grabbed him by the arm and gave him a disbelieving look with a raised eyebrow.

"Who are you?" She demanded sharply. "Why do you keep looking at my sisters? I'll clock you into next week, buddy! Just try me!"

"I'll have you know my name is Alexander Hamilton, and the one thing I hate the most in the world is bullies!" He snapped back while crossing his arms. "Back off!"

The girl stared at him with inquisitive eyes, ones that continued to shine against the golden sunlight that made his island beautifully. He wondered if she was going to punch him, curse at him, or try to get him arrested or beaten; it wouldn't be too unusual given his luck. Instead, she extended her hand out formally and squared her shoulders as though she'd made up her mind.

"My name is Angelica Schuyler," she greeted. "And I'm going to take care of you as much as I can."

* * *

 

Learning how to be a rich kid was not as easy as one might imagine. For starters, he was constantly hiding food and change in his room- which, by the way- was about twice the size of his cousin's home- just in case they ever ejected him, which they surprisingly never even threatened to. He had more nightmares than his siblings combined, and he was always referring to death as though it was something that he was ready to accept at any moment rather than something unknown or to be afraid of. He broke down into an emotional mess if he didn't hear from his family every few hours and claimed they committed suicide or got deathly ill or died despite they weren't as unstable as Stephan or as unprepared for fever like his poor mama, and he got kicked out of seven schools before he finally settled into a private academy that was co-ed rather than simply for boys or a public school.

Despite all of the things Alex had been through in the past five years, learning how to love and care for the Schuyler family was one of the easiest things in the world. He had miles and miles built on years of mistrust for the general public and was slow to warm up to them, yes, but he was taught by their persistent kindness and genuine love to not hide his trauma behind jokes or grit while being able to care for them any way he knew how in return for these wonderful gifts. He was referring to Phillip as 'Papa' after nine months and Catherine 'Mama' after two years, and the three Irish triplets as well as his two little brothers were better siblings than his biologically related James ever was (especially when the elder Hamilton refused to leave the island and instead went into foster care.)

Phillip Jeremiah was the baby of the family at three years old, and was like his father in almost every sense of the name. Even though he was a toddler, he was very serious and soft-spoken, and he was always trying to mediate between his older siblings while maintain an air of independence, so Alexander grew quite fond of the little one. John was now five years of age rather than only a few months old like when he first met the boy, who was now a scientifically inclined prodigy who loved to experiment with things and learn about math or how things worked by any means possible. Many things had been remade by the youth (and even more broken) and he left a disaster of wires, screws and casings wherever he lingered, but he was still fascinating to be around and was always down to listen, so he caught along just as well with him as with the youngest brother.

Margaret, who insisted to be 'Peggy' under all circumstances, was the creative one who loved all types of art and drew constantly while making the most bold and unusual fashion choices, all things that made her a lot of fun to be around and even more entertaining to lovingly mess with. She was quite passionate and always spoke her mind just as well as her sisters, but she was also the most level-headed and non-judgmental, so he took great comfort in asking her advice or worldviews despite being one of her usual models to be used as either a canvas or a breathing statue. Eliza (and occasionally known as 'Betsey') was one of his best friends in the universe and the person usually confused as his twin, as the two were practically joined at the hip. She was a tomboy and loved to play outside/get dirty, so they ran around all the time doing sports and burning up all the energy of being young as a team. Both of them were in track and field and on the respective baseball teams, and while she was a cheerleader and he was a basketball player, they still got to spend a lot of time together. She was sweet and trusting despite how rough-and-tumble she was, two things that made he and their older sister insanely protective, but he knew that despite his bite that he'd never top how much of a guardian Angelica was to all of them.

Angelica Schuyler was the bravest person he'd ever met, and he was honored to call her his big sister. She had a quick wit, a sharp tongue, and a lot of intellect that made her captain of the debate team and student body president, and she'd kick in anyone's teeth off of school property who dared to fuck with the Schuyler siblings. Her protective streak was one of the most well-known things about her along with her skills in a strategic fight, whether it be with words or fists, and people respected her a lot for that. Alexander idolized her secretly (and would never admit it), but he got to find out just how devout she was when they began high school.

"Get out of my way, immigrant," Thomas Jefferson spat in his direction, shoving him against the lockers unforgivingly as he stalked by. "We don't want you here, you damn pest. Why don't you swim back across the sea where you belong?"

"If my being here pisses you off, I must be doing something right," Alexander retorted proudly as he straightened himself.

"Somebody ought to teach this bastard some manners!" Jefferson seized him by the shoulder before he had a chance to duck away, pushing him into James Madison, who held him like a clamp. "I've been letting you slide because your sisters are cute, but it ain't worth it if you won't stay in your place."

"At least I can speak proper English," the shorter snipped, fronting to the best of his ability that the upperclassman didn't rattle or frighten him even a little as they maintained fierce, dangerous eye contact. "English isn't my first language, so what's your excuse?"

"That's it, you asked for it, _Hamilshit_."

No matter how the younger man struggled against Madison, he couldn't avoid the punch that send him buckling backwards and nearly collapsing to his knees when the momentum sent him reeling forward after being forced back. His vison was pooling with involuntary tears as his mouth filled with blood, giving him a chance to spit it right in his attacker's voice before taking two more blows, each more forceful than the last, to the stomach. He hit his knees directly thereafter and began to try and get to his feet- he'd be damned if he didn't get any licks in- but when he lifted his head, Jefferson was gone and so was Madison.

Shouting erupted from just down the hallway behind him, and turning around revealed an unmistakable bundle of curls charging after two upperclassman while screaming insults and brandishing what looked like a very thick textbook. Alexander leaned against the lockers and removed the moisture from his eyes hurriedly, the aches of being struck spreading and throbbing with no time wasted on simply being adrenaline. A few administrators came rushing past as the sound of leathery covering made harsh contact with flesh and clothes, and before he caught sight of his older sister again, a very distinct slapping sound reverberated across the rapidly filling halls and made the adopted Schuyler grin.

“He was beating up my younger brother!!” Angelica was scowling and struggling to get free of the police officer that was now pulling her toward the front offices. “That piece of shit had more coming to him!”

“HEY!” Alexander barked loudly enough for the police officer to snap back around to him and all eyes shift their attention to them as well. “Let go of my sister!!”

The police officer scowled and began to drag her away again, but he wasn’t going to stand for anyone not treating her like the queen she was. He immediately marched up and pulled her from his steely grip, nearly taking a swing before she grabbed both of his fists firmly and essentially ran with him all the way to the principal’s office. She threw open her door and shoved her brother inside, following suite and slamming it loudly before giving him a knowing look.

“You don’t want to get kicked out here too,” she grunted as they both caught their breath. “This school…is the best match for you. Don’t let me drag you into my battles.”

“You stuck up for _me_ , and that white guy on a power trip had the nerve to pull you along like a fucking doll!” Alex argued immediately.

“Now wait just a minute.” The principal, who both siblings had seemingly forgot about until she was standing up with a solemn, tired expression from her desk. “I want to hear everything from the very beginning _without_ that kind of language. Both of you take a seat; I imagine that Mister Jefferson and Mister Madison will be joining us shortly.”

In the end, Angelica ended up being suspended for one week while Jefferson got two for proof he began the violent exchange and Madison got in school suspension for two weeks for aiding in violence. When their father picked them both up just after the punishments had been doled out, Alex had fully expected him to go into a well-versed and emotion eliciting lecture about being an intelligent pacifist rather than a violent fighter, but he simply ruffled his eldest daughter’s hair and gave him a knowing look before taking them out for a late lunch at a restaurant.

“Y’know, you didn’t have to fight it for me,” Alexander muttered when their Papa went to go to the bathroom as they ate. “I could’ve gotten those two back but good, and your flawless record would still be intact.”

“Are you kidding me?” Angelica grunted softly as she draped an arm around him. “I know you could’ve, but that piece of shit was messing with my baby bro. It’ll be a cold day in Hell before I don’t at _least_ kick their ass with you if not before you! I promised you I would take care of you!”

At that moment, the thirteen year old Hamilton had the profound epiphany and acceptance of the fact that he’d never chance her mind and he would go on to be alright with that. “Well then, I suppose I can’t argue for once with such sound logic.”

* * *

 

It took twenty years of knowing his older sister to pay her back, but he was finally ready to do so.

The twenty year old Hamilton stood outside of the church sanctuary, his hands folded in front of him as he waited for her to stop arguing with her should-have-been husband. The man was a cocky young gun who flew too high for what he could compensate with, the trust fund baby of an unimpressive but wealthy snake of a businessman, but the bastard had his poor sister’s heart. He’d been coerced by the woman that was essentially his twin to be polite and supportive as she made endless dates work with her own brand of magic and accepted his marriage proposition while swallowing the bitter pill he was marrying into her money, not for love or to benefit them both. It had all fallen apart on their wedding day, the day which should have been the happiest of her life, that he’d decided to leave her and eject her from their shared apartment that he’d sneakily put in his name during the honeymoon phase of their being engaged. She was giving what for now, but the tears in her voice were painful to hear and he’d just about heard enough when the piece of shit finally had the balls to walk out.

“What the fuck do you want?!” The young gun had demanded to Alexander, who simply gave a sadistic smile before seizing him by the back of his head.

“Don’t worry,” he snarled in his ear. “I’ll _show you_.”

Of course, he thought about all his big sister had done for him and their family over the years as he dragged the blasphemous man outside and gave him a rough beat down. He thought about how she’d been the first person to set him up on a date when he’d finally come out with tears in his eyes at sixteen, and how she’d all but flipped the tables of the school board at his side to ensure that same-sex couples could attend prom in an open relationship. She’d helped him with his first breakup and helped teach him how to drive, as she wasn’t afraid of his riskier moves and didn’t confine him to simple, methodical teaching when she was in the passenger seat. In every event he or his siblings were in, she was right beside their parents cheering and embarrassing them with all of her pride, and she’d given her blessing to their most beloved Eliza to marry her loving, doting husband, one Marquis de Lafayette, when she was too nervous to approach him about marrying one of his best friends and their parents were initially not very supportive. Time and time again she’d pulled through for every member of the family too many times to count, so Alexander felt no speck of guilt as he roughed up the man who’d shattered her heart and his own husband gathered all of her things from their apartment.

“She wants to be alone right now. I tried everything, but she simply wants nothing to do with us right now.” Eliza met her at the front of the sanctuary, her own bridesmaid dress still strained under her pregnant belly and adorning stains for stress eating. “I think it’s so she can grieve alone.”

“I’m going to try anyway,” he replied calmly before embracing his beloved Betsey. “Why don’t you go find your husband? I’m sure that son of bitch is calling the cops of me, so I’m going to need you to try and diffuse those nice officers before I have to go get bailed-”

“Alexander Hamilton Schuyler, what in the world did you do?” She scolded immediately, her cheeks flush. “This is the third time we have to fish you out of the pen!”

“Trust me, this time was worth it,” he assured with a mischievous grin before ducking behind the heavy wooden doors that were separating him from the woman he’d defended.

Angelica’s cries were muffled despite having been alone, and it absolutely shattered his heart. Even before he got fully to her side, he could see how her eloquent dress was tangled all around her while her makeup ran off of her face and into her hands along with her tears and sorrow. The fluffy additions that were sewn to her gown were thrown all around and her boquet was destroyed at the altar, and he was hardly surprised when she immediately grabbed the one shoe left on her foot and chucked it in his direction without looking.

“Go away!” She barked furiously. “I don’t want anything to do with your ass! Fuck off!”

“Jeez, is that any way to talk to your baby brother?” Alex refuted gently, for once not taking much pleasure in how quickly she filled with horror before collapsing into more sobs.

“I’m sorry!” She exclaimed in a broken tone. “Fuck, I’m sorry, Lexi. Just leave me alone, I’ll be fine-”

“Of course you will,” he interrupted carefully before sitting at her side. “That doesn’t mean it doesn’t matter now. You’re one of the strongest women I know, but you’re allowed to be pissed and broken up about this. I promise you don’t have to be strong.”

Much to his surprise, she looked him over with a long pause before burying her face into his chest and releasing the rest of her cries into him. The twenty year old sat as still as possible, his arms around her and hand gently stroking her back until she finally relaxed, which is when he chose to plant a careful kiss on her now tangled hair.

“John went and got your things from the apartment,” he stated with a small smile. “And I’m probably going to jail in a few minutes, but you’re welcome to stay with us while you get all your finances and shit sorted out. I know you’ll be fine in a couple of weeks or something, but until then…”

“Wait, you did _what_?” His twenty one year old sister demanded before letting out an exasperated groan tinged with fondness. “God, Lexi, that fool isn’t worth all the effort! Now you’re going to make me pay your bail _and_ for a restraining order? You’re making me grey!”

“Hey!” He protested before snuggling up to her, his head rested on hers carefully. “A long time ago, you promised you’d take care of me to the best of your ability. I’m just repaying the favor, really.”

Angie’s laugh was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard in that moment, with their worlds fluctuating and hers slowly trying to keep from shattering in every aspect. “Trust me, Alexander, your being here was already more than enough. Do me a favor and try to comply with the cops if they do arrest you, okay?”

“Only on one condition, sister dearest. After we’re both home, I propose we burn your dress and shit in a photography sessions with Johnny; it was his idea, of course. I think you’d look fierce as hell, and who better to do it with?”

“…You’ve got yourself a very solid deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please remember to leave kudos/subscribe/bookmark/write a review if it so compels you! This won't be my last update before Christmas, but I hope you all have very safe and very happy holidays! ♥♥♥


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